Friendly Fire
by glitteryv0dka
Summary: Last installment of the series. Sequel to Misfire and Domestic Weaponry. The squad deals adjusts to a new lifestyle and a new location. Harley deals with memory loss and her new abilities. Floyd tries to support her and still lead the squad, but everything's easier said than done.
1. Harlequinn

She took a deep breath, gripping the bat so hard, she felt her fingers cramping. She wondered if they'd start to go numb soon. She hadn't experienced pins and needles in so long.

"Harley, I'm sorry, I really am." Pam murmured, stroking a leafy vine that coiled gently around her waist as if it was a pet.

Harley backed up a few steps, tilting her head at her former friend, an ally. "Thought you didn't do business with your enemies, Pammy." Harley clipped.

Pam's eyes looked conflicted, but the look disappeared as soon as Harley noticed. Her friend shook her head at her, "He's paying anyone good money to find you and bring you and your squad back."

Harley nodded, "Ah, guess you better take good care of us then, till you drop us off and get you little check."

Pam smiled at her, shaking her head sadly. "Not this time, Harley."

She put her hand over her heart, as if Pam's words had struck a chord. "What? J doesn't want me back?"

Pam shook her head, "Just in a body bag." Her expression darkened. "I can give you a bit of a head start, if you'd like." Her lips barely moved as she spoke, but her eyebrow raised, as if suggesting a challenge.

Harley shook her head, "The rest of them are already caught, aren't they?"

Pam's lack of response said all Harley needed to know.

She sighed deeply, dropping the bat and stretching her arms for a moment. "Then I guess we might as well get this over with, Pammy."

**Eighteen Months Ago**

"Dr. Harleen Quinzel," Dr. Angelo Staffer started, clicking his pen several times as he leaned back, glancing quickly between the patient in front of him and his thick notepad, already filled with detailed descriptions of her limited movements and responses so far.

She looked back up at him, tilting her head questioningly. "Huh?"

"How are you feeling today?" He asked rather timidly as he watched her nervously. He eyed her exposed arms with a mixture of interest and intimidation every few minutes.

Harley opened her mouth to speak, but only a dry laugh came out.

He chuckled back at her, probably mostly due to intense nerves, she figured.

"Wh-What?" He asked after a moment.

She raised and lowered one shoulder, a smirk playing on her lips. "Dr. Staffer, right?"

He nodded quickly, "That's right."

"How old are you?" She asked coolly.

"Twenty five," He said, his nervous smile beginning to falter.

She nodded slowly, letting out a low whistle. "That's pretty young for taking on a high level criminal."

He shrugged, "About the same age as you were, right?"

She chuckled, leaning forward to the coffee table between them, grabbing a pack of cigarettes off the surface and put it between her lips. "You've done your homework."

He chewed on his lower lip as he watched her pick up the matches and fumble with lighting them. "It's what I'm trying to be good at."

She struggled with two more matches before developing a flame with the third. With a triumphant smile she lit her cigarette and took a long drag. "Can I give you some advice?"

He let out what Harley could only assume to be a mixture of a chuckle and a gasp. "I guess."

"Don't start out a session with a new patient without introducing yourself first." She started, leaning forward and resting her elbows on her lower thighs as she flicked ashes casually, "It makes us crazies feel more relaxed."

He cracked a small smirk as he leaned forward, watching the ashes burn out in the tray for a moment before speaking. "You like cigarettes?"

She put another one between her lips and opened the matchbox, shrugging. "It depends on the day, I guess."

"Floyd Lawton told me you smoke when you're stressed out."

She looked up at him, her furrowed brow relaxing slightly at the mention of his name. "Floyd Lawton said that?"

"Yes."

"Oh," She muttered as she refocused her energy on lighting the match.

"What?" He asked, clicking his pen once more.

"I just didn't know you saw other members of the squad."

He raised and lowered one shoulder. "We have a team of shrinks to help you all with the transition back into society as well as coping with recent events."

She nodded, giving up on the cigarette between her teeth and setting it down on the table between them. "Does everyone get a different psychiatrist?"

Dr. Staffer nodded quickly, "Except for you and Mr. Lawton."

She tilted her head, "Why?"

He shrugged one shoulder, "I was informed you two worked very closely together."

She rolled her eyes, leaning back in her chair, propping her feet up on the coffee table and rocking backwards a little bit. "That's a bit of an understatement, from what I've been told."

"Still no memory of Mr. Lawton?"

She eyed him skeptically before shrugging after a moment. "What? It's not in your notepad?"

He smiled in spite of the situation, "You haven't discussed these sessions with Floyd Lawton?"

She shook her head, lowering her chair back on all fours.

He raised an eyebrow, "Have you spoken to Floyd Lawton at all?"

She shrugged, as if his name meant nothing to her. "Once or twice," she took a drag, trying to will herself to think of anyone else on the squad but Floyd.

He scribbled down in his notepad some more before looking back up at her, "You don't sound so sure of yourself."

She rolled her eyes at him, but gave no verbal retort.

"It's been a month since the Joker. You're all moved into Johnny Frost's old house-"

"Jonah," her voice was clipped.

"I'm sorry?" Dr. Staffer looked up at her from his notes.

"His name was Jonah Frames," she muttered, tapping her cigarette against the ashtray's edge.

He put his hands up in defense, "My mistake, I apologize."

She just shrugged, hugging her knees to her chest in the chair.

"When was the last time you talked to Floyd Lawton?"

She looked down at the table, staring at the embers burning out in the ashtray.

_She was sitting on the floor in the hospital's hallway. Her leather jumpsuit was torn, her hair, once immaculately straightened down her back, was pulled into a tousled ponytail, and she was covered in blood. If any of it had been hers, her wounds were all healed. The only remainder of her humanity was the red tint her blood had left along her skin._

_She refused to see any doctors until everyone she'd hurt on the squad was checked out. She scratched her forearms violently, trying to will herself to start shaking, to feel panic, to feel something. Before all this, the adrenaline of a fight would've worn off by now, but the enhancements J loaded her up with was making her feel like she was still on the verge of a fight or flight response. _

_She felt the weight of what she'd done just hours ago barreling down on her, like a train on a track. She ran a hand over her face, her palm pulling on the skin beneath her eyes slowly. She needed to figure out what to do next. If she stayed here much longer, she'd have to deal with the fact that she had actually stabbed-_

"_Miss Quinzel?" a nurse said timidly as she approached Harley nervously. _

_Harley clasped her hands together before bringing them to her mouth, chewing her nails as she shook her head at the woman's voice. _

"_No." She snapped, "Harley Quinn." She corrected. _

_The woman tilted her head, but Harley didn't tear her eyes from the wall. "My mistake, ma'am. I was told you were going by your original name now, so I just-"_

_Harley shook her head. "No. Harley Quinn. And I'm fine."_

_The nurse tilted her head, clearly not believing Harley. "Well we should get you checked out. Just to be safe," the nurse, God love her, was insistent on doing her job._

_Harley wasn't having it. _

"_Look," she snapped, her voice louder than intended. "I'm obviously fuckin' fine." she held up her arms, not a scratch on her, aside from her new jewelry. The fucking bling that kept her from feeling anything after hurting her friends, after killing-_

_She looked up to see the nurse's eyes watering slightly. _

_Harley breathed hard through her nose, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. "Shit," she muttered. "I'm sorry, lady." Harley pushed herself off the floor. _

_The nurse shook her head, holding her hand up. "No, I shouldn't be acting this way, I'm so sorry-" her voice was shaky. It made Harley want to feel worse. _

"_No, no. You're just trying to help," she reassured, stepping towards her but not reaching for the nurse. She didn't want to scare her. "Actually," she feigned pain and gripped her shoulder. "I think I banged up my shoulder a bit, would you care to check it out?" She forced herself to take a few pained breaths, trying to give the nurse something to do. _

_This seemed to put her at ease, "Of course! Follow me, and we'll get you in a room." _

_Harley nodded thanks and followed her down the hall. _

_She led Harley to a larger hospital room, with a curtain in the middle of the room, likely serving as a divider so two patients could be treated at once. Harley heard faint beeps from a heart rate monitor on the other side. She hoped whoever over there wasn't in any pain from her actions. Not like what she had done to- _

"_So! Just sit tight over here," the nurse snapped her out of her thoughts, patting the hospital bed beside her. "And I'll be back with an ultrasound machine to get a closer look at this shoulder."_

_Harley nodded, giving her a small smile. "Thanks so much." _

_The nurse started for the exit, but stopped for a moment. She turned her head back towards Harley with a thoughtful look. "Is it supposed to be like harlequinn?" she asked. _

_Harley looked back at the nurse, confused by the question. "My name? I didn't pick it." _

_The nurse's lips pursed into a "o" shape, but she didn't speak. _

_Harley tilted her head, "Why?" _

_The nurse shook her head, "I don't mean to pry, but a harlequinn's purpose is to serve. Like, her master." Her voice seemed small, nervous. When Harley didn't respond immediately, she spoke quicker. "I took a romance lit course in college. And, for what it's worth, Harleen is a nice name." _

_Harley just stared back at her for a moment, unsure of how to respond. "Uh, thanks." _

_The nurse smiled back at her nervously. "Yeah, so I'll be back in a minute!" she chirped and walked out. _

_Harley took a deep breath, blowing some stray hair from her face. _

"_How'd she know all that?" a voice from behind the curtain asked, Harley felt as if the voice's deep baritone pierced through the silence like a bullet. _

_Something in her wanted to smirk at the thought. _

_She looked over at the curtain for a moment, "I dunno, took romance lit in college." Her voice felt foreign, too calm, too disinterested. _

_She heard a soft, strained laugh from the other side of the curtain, "So that explains it." _

_Her curiosity got the best of her at that moment, so she walked over and pulled back the curtain. _

_There he was, sitting up in bed. Something Lawton, the sniper. He stopped J from taking a shot at her, pushed him off the balcony, tried to stop her from killing-_

"_How are you?" She asked quickly, shaking the thought away. He looked worse for wear, but definitely better than she expected for someone that took a 40 story tumble just hours ago. _

_He looked her for a moment his eyes almost glistening as her gave her a weak smile. "Better now, Dollface," his tone was full of relief, but it felt misplaced to her. _

_She stiffened at the nickname, feeling nothing upon seeing him, but knowing that she should. The way he looked at her in the club, the way he's looking at her now. It was overwhelming, even in this way-too-mellowed-out phase. _

_He seemed to notice his effect on her, he tried (and failed) to straighten up from the hospital bed. The muscles in his arm twitched, as if he considered reaching for her. He didn't, but she could tell he had to fight the instinct. "Harley, I didn't-" _

"_No, it's alright." She put her hand up, trying to stop him. "I think I owe you a thanks actually, for stopping J." She felt like she should take a step closer to him, maybe sit on the edge of his bed? But her legs felt like lead. She didn't move closer. _

_He didn't say anything either, looking confused. _

_She wanted the tension to leave them, so she tried again. "So, thank you, Mister…?" she drew her words out at the end, not quite sure of his name._

_She noticed the hurt dance across his features, he almost seemed to literally swallow down what he was feeling. _

"_Floyd." His voice was clipped, like he was trying to sound breezy, but he looked like someone rested a rock on his chest. _

_She took a deep breath, knowing the feeling. She felt guilty. He saved her, pulled her from the fight. He talked her out of fighting him, tried to stop her before she murdered-_

"_Yeah!" she said, well shouted, really. She felt mechanical, like she was overselling this interaction. "Well, thanks, Floyd. I'll see you around." _

_She ripped the curtain back across the room, blocking her view from him. He looked like he wanted to get up and go to her, but before she found out if he tried it, she turned on her heel and headed for the door, slamming it behind her and running down the hall of hospital floor. _

_She shoved the door to a bathroom open, barely making it in before she threw up, emptying the contents of her stomach into the sink. _

_She took a few deep breaths before she looked up at herself in the mirror. _

"_Floyd?" she asked her reflection quietly, as if the copy of herself would have all the answers this guy seemed to want from her now. _

"Miss Quinn?" Dr. Staffer snapped her out of her thoughts. "I asked you when the last time you talked to Floyd Lawton was?"

Harley blinked rapidly, noticing the embers had burnt to nothing but black ashe while she'd zoned out.

"Yeah, I heard you." She mumbled, picking up another cigarette from the pack.

Dr. Staffer raised an eyebrow. "So?"

She met his gaze with determination as she lit up once more. "Next question."


	2. Fourth of July

"Okay squad let's look alive out there," Flag's voice commanded through everyone's comms devices. "Anyone see anything out of the ordinary yet?"

The comms were a gift from Waller. Now, instead of never being trusted enough to split up more than five feet from one another, they had ear pieces to connect them. Now, they were spread out across the greater San Francisco Bay-area, all in places for their next mission.

Floyd liked the air out here more than Gotham's. It was clear, pretty brisk for a summer afternoon, but clear. It was the Fourth of July, and Waller received a tip from the Department of Security that a group of domestic terrorists were going to strike the Wharf during a fireworks show later on this evening.

He was perched on a bank building, high above the tourists mingling below. He watched a group of teenage girls take selfies together in front of the "In-And-Out Burger" sign. He felt a pang of guilt, thinking of Zoe.

She would've loved it here, and he made a mental note to bring her, one of these days. But today, he had a job to do. So no thinking about the past, no Zoe, no past family, none of it.

"Pier 39 is clear, but I'll stick by the area for a bit, see if anything changes."

Except for Harley.

Her voice cut through his ears and pierced the part of his brain strictly saved for family like an icicle.

"Thanks Quinn," Flag respondes, "Drigger?"

Floyd decided to take a small chance and switch positions on his rooftop for a minute, just to see if he could spot her.

He quickly found her amongst the crowd of tourists in his scope. She looked normal around, her platinum hair was pulled into a low, loose bun, a few strands framing her face well as she walked along, casually glancing in storefronts and repeatedly checking a cellphone, pretending to text someone. Her modifications were easily covered, since this area of the country was bitterly cold during the summer. She looked just like everyone else, walking around in a black sweater and light blue jeans.

She looked so normal as she walked over to a coffee cart, tipping her round-rimmed sunglasses down her nose as she ordered from the barista with a smile. Her comms weren't engaged at the moment, but he knew she'd ordered a shot of espresso. It was still her favorite.

He felt his triumphant smile falter at that thought. Her love for espressos was probably the only thing that had stayed the same.

"Drigger, for the last time," Katana's irate voice cut into the comm's link and snapped Floyd out of his thoughts. "We all told you to pack for the weather."

"That doesn't change the bloody fact that this is California!" Drigger shot back, his tone exasperated. "It's supposed to be suntans and bikini tops, how the Hell is it this cold?"

Floyd rolled his eyes, but felt compelled to respond. "You could've planned ahead and showed up to the briefing, but you slept in. That's on you, Aussie."

"Alright, alright," Flag's voice cut back in. It was lighter, like the conversation had amused him before he had to cut it short. "Let's get back on task. Lawton? How's Northbeach looking?"

Floyd sent one last glance in Harley's direction before moving back to the other side of the roof, positioning his scope and scanning his assigned area once more.

"All clear on my end too." He muttered.

"Waylon?" Flag asked once more.

The comms were staticky for a moment before a quick bursting sound broke through, then some dripping and heavier breathing. "Alcatraz Island is clear. Heading back towards the Hyde Street Pier," his voice was more alert, and almost excited?

Waylon hardly ever got out on these small missions now, and he readily volunteered for this one. Swimming was his bread and butter, but Floyd could tell he was trying to mask his contentment during the job.

"Hey, Quinn," Drigger's voice cut through with a chuckle. "How much would you bet that Waylon can eat more than three sea lions before he yaks all over the bay?" The Aussie erupted into chuckles at his own idea.

Floyd turned his scope once more, finding Harley sitting at a table by the coffee stand still, sipping from her paper cup and looking around casually.

"I have no interest in how many sea lions anyone can eat." Harley muttered, scanning the area in front of her. She tilted her head, the line of her gaze sending Floyd near an alley, but he couldn't see what she was looking at. A man in a black hoodie jogged from around the corner. He stopped short and glanced around him as he pulled on his hood, but he didn't immediately move. Floyd watched Harley's eyebrows furrow as she took another sip.

"You used to be fun, ya know that?" Waylon cut in, sounding almost like he was sulking.

"Yeah, that's what I hear," Harley deadpanned and immediately sat straighter as Black Hoodie stalked off into the crowd, carrying a red backpack that Floyd could've sworn wasn't on him a second ago. "I have eyes on one of the suspects."

"Anyone near Pier 39 with eyes on Quinn?" Flag's voice cut in, sounding urgent.

Floyd pulled his rifle back, preparing to head down to Harley's aid. He noticed her stand casually and started walking through the crowd with her cup of coffee, her steps quicker than before.

"I'm on it," Drigger's voice cut through, stopping Floyd before he could respond.

"No," Floyd tried again, "I got it."

"Lawton, we need your eyes on the rooftop. Drigger, head to the Pier and help Quinn." Flag's command made Floyd roll his eyes. It made sense, but missions are the only time Harley even looked at Floyd.

They'd been living together in Frost's old place for six weeks, and she's pretty much kept to herself. At the very least, she acknowledges the rest of the team, but she goes out of her way to avoid Floyd. If he walks in a room, she immediately exists and heads to her bedroom, locking the door behind her.

He shook his head at the thought as he set his rifle back up, looking through the scope to figure out who Harley was trailing.

"Who's the target, Harley?" He asked with a defeated sigh. He still had to remind himself not to call her Dollface.

"Black hoodie at my 11 o'clock," she responded, popping open the lid of her coffee and tossing it into a trashcan as she passed. "And another on my six, I think." She looked behind her briefly before her eyes scanned the rooftops around her location. He knew she couldn't see him, but she nodded towards a taller man in a brown leather jacket, rather obviously pushing through the crowd, his unwavering stare on Harley as he did so.

He held his breath as he lined up the shot, but Flag's command filled his ears before he could act.

"Lawton, scan the rest of the area for possible gunmen. Quinn's got the ones trailing her." The call made sense, he was up there to see things that his teammates couldn't, but Harley was down there alone. Drigger hadn't caught up to her yet, and the guy was gaining on her.

He shook his head and took a deep breath, he'd scan the perimeter as soon as he took this guy out. It would be quick.

"Not today, motherfucker," Floyd started, but before he could pull the trigger, Harley stopped short and threw her hot coffee in his face.

He felt himself wince for the man, who stopped and hunched over, grabbing at his burnt skin and crying out. People in the crowd cried out, stopping short and staring at the exchange.

He smiled as he watched Harley press her hand to the comms. "I've got the one. Drigger, you can cut the other one off in the alley." She stood over the goon that had been trailing her. Smirking as she kicked him in the stomach, before she pulled out a set of high tech handcuffs they were all given before they were dropped in the area.

They had to bring these guys in alive so the government could get intel on the rest of their group.

"It's okay," Harley addressed the crowd members staring on in horror. "I work with the gov- '' a shot rang out to her right, bursting through her clavicle.

"Gah!" she exclaimed, crumpling over for a moment before she caught herself. Floyd watched her pop back up in the crowd, and her hand over her chest. "Damn it," she sputtered into the comms.

It was a shit show, everyone screamed and ran in different directions.

"What happened, Quinn?" Katana asked, her tone on high alert.

"I've been hit," Her voice was calm through, but Floyd tensed at the pain riddled in her tone. Her words were slower, she'd been hit in a critical area. "I don't have eyes on the gunman."

"I'm coming, Love." Drigger's voice cut in, and Floyd saw his brightly colored orange and pink Hawaiin shirt as he pushed through the running crowd, going against the vast majority's direction. He was heading to Harley.

Floyd angled his scope around where the shot had come from, but he couldn't see anyone. "Shit," he muttered. He needed to take out the gunman before anyone else was hit.

"Lawton, got eyes on the shooter?" Flag's voice cut in. He sounded pissed, probably because Floyd hadn't done what he was supposed to.

"Someone's gonna need to cut the other one off ahead. He's heading out towards the docks, over by Pier 41." Drigger cut in, bending down with cuffs of his own and securing restraints on the goon Harley stopped.

"On it," Waylon responded immediately, more splashing was heard in the background before he disabled his link, presumably underwater again.

"Floyd, where's the fucking gunman?" Flag's voice cut in.

"One second," he clipped, he was squinting through his scope. He just needed to see one slip. Drigger was in a loud shirt, that would draw their attention.

"Drigger, stand up," Floyd started, glancing towards where the Aussie was crouched down, tending to Harley.

"Are you insane?" He bit back.

"Stand the fuck up!" Floyd shouted into his comms.

He saw the flash of pink and orange out of the corner of his eye. Drigger had done what he asked, and Floyd immediately found the gunman a few hundred yards to their right.

"Bingo," he shot once, hitting them square in the chest.

More people ran even faster. After the terrorist group realized the squad had a sniper, the rest of the shooters gave themselves away. They shot wildly towards Drigger and Harley, but Floyd put them all down within a few moments.

"Pier 39's clear." Floyd said, wiping his face as he holstered his gun and jumped down to the fire escape.

"Took you long enough," Drigger barked. "Quinn's in pretty bad shape."

Drigger popped back up, the area pretty much devoid of people now. Police had arrived, but the tourists had run off to avoid the gunfire.

The rest of the mission went by quickly.

Waylon caught the other guy easily. Once he saw a human-crocodile hybrid break through the concrete dock ahead of him, he surrended instantly.

Katana and Flag pushed past the police lines, each with another goon of their own restrained too.

Black SUVs pulled up onto the scene too, probably to escort them out safely, so no one would see them and ask questions about Task Force X.

Waller stepped out of one of the vechiles, walking passed the rest of them to where Harley was sitting on a stretcher. Paramedics surrounded her, but they all seemed hesitant.

Floyd tried to push past to see Harley as well, but Flag stopped him. "Lawton, not the time."

"She's hurt," he snapped back to his leader.

Flag still looked pissed as Hell that Floyd hadn't followed his command, but his features softened. Flag looked over towards Harley. She was still awake and seemed responsive, but she had her hand pressed against the wound, her sweater matted slightly around her chest with blood. She was sitting perfectly still and her eyes were shut.

"She's gonna bleed out if we don't take care of this, boss." Flag called after Waller.

Waller looked over her shoulder, her expression hard. She motioned for the paramedics to leave them.

"I thought you'd heal from this by now," Waller pressed, crossing her arms as she glared at Harley.

"Yeah, me too." Her voice was controlled, but softer than before. Her eyes were still shut.

"So? Why haven't you?"

Harley moved her shoulder a little bit, wincing as she did so. "Yep, I thought so."

"What?" Floyd finally asked, pushing himself passed everyone, stopping besides Waller.

She opened her eyes and looked at him up and down, before turning her head slowly towards Waller. "Bullet's still in there."

Waller nodded, calling over her shoulder for paramedic. "Someone remove this bullet."

A paramedic approached them, clutching a large case with medical equipment. "Right here?"

"Yes" Harley breathed.

The man tilted his head at her, scratcing the back of his neck awkwardly as he watched her. "Ma'am, we should really get you to a hospital. You've lost a lot of blood, and that procedure is usually performed by a surg-"

"Oh for fuck's sake," Harley muttered as she pushed herself off the stretcher, landing on shakey feet. She snatched the case from his hand and tossed it on the stretcher. She held one hand over her wound, and used the other to unzip it.

Floyd stepped forward, reaching out to grab some gauze or something to help her, but she barely glanced in his direction.

"I've got it," she said dismissively. She let out a satisfied grunt when she pulled out what looked like larger, long teezers.

After some long, painful to look at moments that definitely resulted in Drigger vomitting on the sidewalk, Harley dropped the bullet on the pavement behind her.

She let out a deep breath, "Much better." Through the hole in her shirt, the squad watched her skin begin to come back together, as if she hadn't of been shot minutes before. She looked around to the rest of them, all staring at her in disbelief.

"We done here?" She asked, but didn't wait for an answer as she walked towards a dark SUV and got in.

"I'll never get used to that," Waylon muttered before following suit and climbing in the same car Harley just claimed.

They were back to their safehouse pretty late at night, and Flag had pretty much stayed quiet about the shooting situation the entire flight back to Gotham. So Floyd wasn't surprised when Flag stopped him outside the front door as the rest of the squad walked tiredly in the house to their respective rooms.

He did notice Harley spare a passing glance his way, but she didn't wait to find out what Flag wanted to talk to him about.

Flag offered an unusual kindness by waiting for everyone to be inside before he laid into him.

"What the Hell happened up there, Lawton?"

Floyd raised and lowered one shoulder. He knew what had happened, but he didn't feel it needed to be said.

"What's a shrug supposed to do for me when I have to explain to Waller exactly how one of U.S. government's greatest secrets was almost exposed because Harley Quinn was shot in the middle of a Fourth of July celebration in California?"

"That's not really my issue, is it?" Floyd snapped, pushing passed Flag to head into the house.

Flag grabbed his shoulder. "I know this isn't easy on you, Lawton." He breathed hard through his nose.

Floyd scoffed, "Really? What exactly is it then?"

Flag's expressioned softened once more, and that just made Floyd feel even shittier. But he didn't want to feel shittier. He didn't want to talk about how his own miscalculation had gotten a member of the squad shot. His girlfriend shot.

Floyd shook his head at the thought. No, she wasn't his anything anymore. She wasn't even Harley.

"I know I fucked up, Flag. Alright?" He ran a hand over his face, just wanting to shower and sleep until he somehow woke up from this nightmare and was back in bed with Harley in their old apartment across the river. Hell, even back in Belle Reve, before the Midway Mission. Before the Bat had brought Harley right through those prison doors and into his life.

Flag nodded, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I know you didn't want to leave her vulnerable, and the threat might've looked like it was closer to her than the perimeter, but you've gotta stay focused up there, Floyd. You've been off since our first mission back."

Floyd wanted to argue, but Flag was right. Harley can protect herself, and she sure as hell doesn't need or want him doing anything to help her out. It only seemed to make things worse. So he just pressed his lips together and nodded, afraid of what he'd say if he finally let the words out.

"I know," he settled on. "I'll get my shit together. This was just an off day."

Flag nodded back at him, but he didn't look entirely convinced. "Okay, we'll have a debriefing tomorrow."

Floyd gave him a weak smile before walking inside. He was thankful Flag didn't try and stop him again. He just wanted to wash another day of his fucking mistakes off of himself in the shower, and try and sleep off another day in this weird Hell he'd come to know.

He walked passed her room, and willed himself not to stop at her door. Every day he considered knocking, but not knowing if she would answer her bedroom door or even look at him now seemed to be better than finding out.

Hell was living one wall away from Harley Quinn without her knowing who the fuck you are, he decided as he settled in his room for the night. Alone again.


	3. Digger's Theory

The squad got a few days off after the San Francisco mission, which they were all thankful for. Everyone was a little shaken up after Harley had taken that hit.

But for her, it went off as seamlessly as she could've hoped. Not that she's saying she _enjoys_ being injured, but better than anyone else in the group.

Everyone got rewards for it too, which had surprised her. The fact that they were all still getting rewards. She figured that the no-longer-in-a-shithole-Louisiana-prison was enough of a reward forever. But still, time off everyone's sentences and mini-rewards to go along with them.

After their first mission since they had gotten her back from J, Waylon got a bigger TV, Drigger got a better mattress, and she'd asked for clothes that suited her new sense of style. Pretty much anything to cover her new enhancements. She didn't like looking at them so much, and it wasn't like she wanted for much anyways now.

She'd heard that Floyd just asks for more visits with his daughter. He had been checked out of the safe house about an hour ago to go visit his kid. Zayn or Zoe, or something. She didn't know for sure, and she wasn't about to ask for a reminder.

She hasn't been asked if she wanted to see his kid, which she was thankful for. She knew from Flag and Waller that whatever her entanglement to Floyd had been, she had spent a lot of time with his kid as well. She had no memory of the girl, and she didn't want to go and pretend to remember a stranger. So she kept her distance when Flag came calling to bring Floyd to see his kid.

So there she was, alone with her reward, which was just another novel and a new tea kettle. She could hear the Game of Thrones theme song playing from the thin barrier between the kitchen and the living room. HBO and a TV in a common space had been both Waylon and Drigger's most recent ask.

"I bet you could take on one of those dragons." Drigger commented as he stuffed a fistful of popcorn in his mouth.

Waylon let out what sounded like a growl, but Harley assumed it was meant to be more of a dry chuckle.

Harley smirked at the two of them, leaning her hip against their kitchen's countertop and watching the show from the next room.

When the tea kettle whistled, Waylon looked over his shoulder and motioned Harley over to them. "Come join us, Craziness."

Harley gave him a small smile, intending to decline the invitation and head to her run for some peace with her book. But she had a soft spot for Waylon now.

**One month ago**

_The squad was dispatched to a boarding school in the mountains of New Hampshire. A gang had taken over the buildings, taking the students hostage, demanding millions of dollars from each of their parents. _

_The squad got in the school easily, taking out each criminal and evacuating each floor. _

_Waylon, Flag and Harley were on the top floor. She'd swung her bat across the skulls of everyone in their path. The two guys had hung back, letting her have this. _

_Violence was the only thing that meant anything to her now. _

_She kicked down a door at the end of the hallway, a bunch of younger students, couldn't have been older than ten, were huddled together in the back corner of the room. _

_Her arms were exposed, all the enhancements were visible and shining under the fluorescent light of the classroom. _

_All the children had screamed at the sight of her, coiling even further around themselves and begging her not to hurt them. _

"_It's okay," Rick said to them in a low, soothing tone as he came in around Harley. Instantly, they all calmed down and listened to him. Soldiers poured in around them, picking up children and heading out of the building._

_As the last of the children were carried out, a young girl clinging to Flag's shoulder gave Harley a passing glance before she tucked her head in the crook of his neck and crying._

_She felt a heavy, scaly hand on her shoulder. _

"_It's not you," Waylon's deep voice penetrated the silence with ease. _

_She didn't feel convinced. "People stare all the time now," she heard herself murmur. She wasn't really talking to Waylon, but she wasn't not talking to him either. _

"_That doesn't mean there's anything wrong with ya," he replied, squeezing her shoulder softly. "Trust me, Craziness. I learnt that the hard way, and you don't deserve beating yourself about something that ain't your fault anymore than I did."_

_She let out a breath then, turning to face him. They just stared at each other for awhile. In that tiny little classroom, the two former villains finally understood each other. _

She fixed up her cup of tea and climbed over the back of the couch, planting herself tightly between both the guys.

They both groaned overdramatically as they scooted apart to make room for her on the tiny couch, but the smiles playing on each of their lips showed her they were happy for the company.

They watched in silence for awhile, when Drigger finally decided to address the elephant of the century.

"So, Floyd's bed activities weren't that memorable, huh?" Drigger asked with a chuckle, nudging Harley's side with his knee.

She tensed but said nothing.

"Dude," Waylon chastised, reaching over Harley's head and smacking the side of Drigger's with his large hand.

"Oh, come off it!" he shouted at Waylon. "I was just being funny."

"You have to _be _funny to begin with to actually say something funny," Harley clipped, turning to Drigger with a smirk.

"Oh, she makes a reappearance! We've missed you, Crazy Glue." Drigger exclaimed with a smile, clinking his bottle of beer to her mug of tea.

She chuckled at his excitement. She shook her head at his nonsense and rested her head on Waylon's arm while they watched.

She wanted to make light of the situation. Because, what the Hell else was she supposed to do? She'd lost a lot of herself the last time she was with J. Most of her personality was zapped away too, likely a side effect of living with these enhancements. Without that little chip in her neck, life just felt colorless.

Sometimes she wondered if she was just depressed. She was beginning to hope so, depression seemed easier to cure than whatever the fuck these modifications had done to her.

But she knew one thing, the closer to equilibrium she seemed, the more at ease the guys seemed. She might not be able to face Floyd, but she could work on her relationship with Waylon and Drigger. Who else did she have? She might be less off her rocker, but Flag was too vanilla.

"But seriously," Drigger started up again after a few minutes. "Still nothing with Lawton?"

Harley breathed hard through her nose and sat straighter. She probably wasn't gonna get around by avoiding this topic forever. And Floyd wasn't even here, so it wasn't like she could hurt him more. Although, the way he seemed to look at her with each passing day was starting to teach her that just when you think someone couldn't be _more sad_, tomorrow surprises you.

"I dunno what to say, Boom," she sighed. "I wish I had a friggin' clue who he was, but-" she tapped two fingers against her temple. "Nothin'."

Waylon and Drigger looked at each other over her head, both of them smiling after a moment.

"What?" she asked, glancing at both boys.

"We could try to reverse it," Waylon offered. "Boom has this theory."

"Oh?" Harley crossed her legs on the couch, facing Drigger on the couch. "What's that?"

"Okay, so hear me out…" Drigger started.

A couple hours into Drigger's 'theory' and Harley realized that, despite her modified state, getting drunk was much harder than before, but not impossible.

"I can't believe I let you talk me into this," Drigger grumbled as Harley continued to file his nails.

"I don't know why you're complaining dude," Waylon commented with a content sigh. "I feel great." He was leaning back, his body totally relaxed. He had cucumbers over his eyes and a bottle of Rose in his hand, his freshly filed claws were painted a matte black he'd picked from Harley's extensive collection, _another _reward from Waller after they stopped a mad scientist in the desert three weeks ago. "Totally zen, man."

"Right!" Harley giggled, stopping her work on Drigger's nails to take a drag from a joint Waylon had broken out from stash at some point. She couldn't remember when. _Ha! _This Drigger's plan _hadn't _been the groundbreaking theory he had promised.

"And you owe me, Drigger." She accused, poking him in the side as she continued her work on his nails. He'd only agreed to a clear coat after she promised him it would strengthen his nail beds.

"Umph," he winced overdramatically at her touch. "Whatever for?"

"You said this would work!" she said. "According to your hypothesis, I should be rolling in memories by now, but I still got nothing." She took another drag, "Besides some great weed."

_Seriously, _who was Waylon's dealer? This shit was good.

"Well it was worth a shot," Drigger defended himself, checking out his nails on his left hand as Harley finished up his right. "Besides, now that we know you have your own private spa, we'll have to 'recharge your brain' more often." He grinned at his nails after a moment. "I feel sassy with these bad boys."

Harley nodded at him, grinning back. She pushed herself off the floor, wobbling a bit and almost tripping over an empty bottle of wine she'd finished off a few minutes ago.

"Thank you guys for this wonderful afternoon!" she flung herself back onto the couch, wrapping her arms around both of them as best she could.

Both of them squirmed away from her. "Hey! Watch the nails," Waylon grumbled, but smiled at her.

Drigger reached over a snagged a cucumber from his eye, taking a bite and chewing obnoxiously. "You look ridiculous right now, mate."

The three of them fell into a fit of laughter, Harley sprawled out over both of their laps.

None of them noticed Floyd come in through the kitchen. He cleared his throat after he realized they hadn't seen him.

"Ah!" Both Waylon and Drigger jumped up, throwing the wine and cosmetics out of their way.

"Heey Lawton!" Drigger shouted, definitely way too loudly and unnaturally to be convincing.

Harley definitely felt her buzz wearing off. She would've laughed at how stupid the boys looked right now, but she knew if she sat up and looked at Floyd, she'd get that weight in her chest again. So she stayed put, looking up at them while they scrambled for an explanation.

Waylon checked his watchless wrist. "Oh, god! Look at the time, Drigger and I have that thing really soon." Waylon nudged Drigger, much harder than intended. He stumbled forward, spilling his glass of rose, but he caught Waylon's drift.

"Yes, yeah we have to go." He stepped over Harley's nail kit that had been left, abandoned on the floor in front of the couch, and the two were gone.

Harley stood up then, picking up the remnants from one of the best afternoons she's had in awhile.

Floyd was still standing there, but he hadn't said anything to her. _Of course_, she rolled her eyes as she faced away from him, grabbing the empty bottles that the boys had left behind.

His eyes followed her to the kitchen as she threw out their trash and put the glasses in the sink.

"I'm surprised Drigger didn't pick a color that matched his unicorns." Floyd muttered after a few more beats of silence.

Harley cackled from the sink. "Yeah, I should suggest that next time," she said with a laugh, turning around to face him, but Floyd was already heading down the hall to his room.

She sighed, "Shit."

Normally she wouldn't have, but she followed Floyd down the hall to his room.

He seemed surprised when she knocked on his open doorframe. She gave him a small smile as he nodded for her to come in. He had already flopped on his bed. She'd never been here before, and she tried not to look around. He had an open book sprawled on his lap. _The Phantom Tollbooth._

"That's a good book," she commented, unsure of why she followed him in here to begin with.

He glanced between the book and her a couple times, but he had his lips pressed together. He seemed like he wanted to say something, but he settled on, "Yeah, it's from Zoe."

Harley nodded, "That's your kid, right?"

He nodded back to her. "Yeah, it really resonated with her."

That made her smile, remembering herself as a young kid, sharing her copy of that book with Jona-

She bit on the inside of her mouth, not wanting to open that can of worms.

Floyd seemed to notice her long silence. "You okay, there?"

"What?" she piped, running a hand through her hair. "Yeah, yeah. Just remembered something," she mumbled.

He shot up immediately, hopping off the bed and stepping towards her. His eyes were so bright and hopeful. "Really?"

Harley leaned back a little bit, but didn't take any steps away from him. She was confused at his reaction. She wasn't talking about anything really, just memories.

"Oh," she breathed. _Shit. _"I'm sorry, I just meant, as a kid."

God, Drigger was right, everything was a knife fight. _At least that hadn't changed. _

If a human being could deflate like an old party balloon, Floyd had mastered that expression.

"Oh," he mumbled. He coughed a little bit, stepping back from her and sitting on the bed. "Yeah, that makes sense."

Harley nodded, Yeah," Her insides twisting at the way he was staring down at the ground.

Jesus fuck, she thought. Why had she even come in here?

"Well, let me know what you think of it," she muttered after a few more seconds of watching Floyd look like he honest-to-God might cry. She almost scrambled to his door.

Harley stopped at the door, her hand on the knob, but something told her not to leave him just yet.

"I know I've been unfair to you." she said softly, not quite sure if she was going to turn around and face him for this. "But I am trying."

He looked over at her, mouth hanging open for a second. He hadn't heard her speak to him about anything besides missions in so long. "I'm sorry?" he managed after a moment.

He was so afraid he imagined her words and she was already gone. But she was still there. Her back was to him, her hand on the doorknob, but she hadn't walked out.

"I didn't ask J to take my memories," she whispered, running her manicured nails through her hair as she turned around.

When she found his eyes, she noticed his jaw was clenched, but his expression was soft.

"I know," he looked down then. His fingers interlacing and parting a couple times.

He seemed to not know what to do with his hands around her. This made her wonder if he was more affectionate with her than J had been.

He didn't say anything else, but he hadn't thrown her out yet. So she swallowed the sudden lump in the back of her throat and continued. "I know-" she took a deep breath. "I know that I loved you. I just don't remember."

He looked back at her then but said nothing.

She nodded then, letting out a breath she didn't remember holding for so long.

God, why did this feel like absolute _shit_?

"So," she piped up after another, long moment of Floyd's silence. "I'm gonna head to bed. I just thought I should say something." She didn't give him a chance to answer. Any more of this tense silence would suffocate her.

"I'm _sorry_," he sounded like he was cracking behind her, so she turned to look at him again.

"What for?" She was confused. _He hadn't taken her memories. _

"I shouldn't have let him do that."

She knew what he was referring to, but she didn't want him carrying that shit. It wasn't his fault J had gotten her back.

"Don't be, that isn't on you," she took another chance, walking over to his bed and sitting on the edge of it beside him.

"I could've done more," he muttered, running a hand over his bald head.

Harley considered resting her hand in his, something in the back of her mind tingled at this moment. Something inside her was telling her that was the right call. But she fought the instinct.

She didn't even know if the image gnawing in the back of her mind was real, she couldn't afford to tell Floyd a "memory" that is just her desperately reaching for something to wipe that ever present frown off his face. That would be the only thing that could make this worse.

"J's gone now, thanks to you." she said after a moment. "So you did more than enough."

Floyd nodded then, looking at her then, meeting her eyes. "What do we do now?"

Harley looked down, grabbing his copy of _The Phantom TollBooth _off his duvet.

"I could read it to ya?" She hadn't expected that, but she wasn't regretful.

Floyd's expression, for the first fucking time, dissolved into something that, wasn't quite a grin, but was definitely softer, lighter.

It was a good look on him, she decided as she opened to where he had left off.


	4. That Really Happened

_She leaned back on the hill, giggling as she exhaled from the joint. God, she was gonna miss this._

"_Holy fuck," she said between chuckles. "We've definitely gotta make time for this whenever I'm back home for breaks." _

_Jonah looked down at her, his shaggy hair hanging past his brow, covering his eyes partially. "Yeah, Leen, we gotta make the time." _

_They were sitting at the top of a hill they used to hike up to during their lunch period. They could see their high school about half a mile down. They graduated earlier that afternoon, and were having one last outing before Harley backed up and moved out of state for university. Jonah decided to stay back a couple of years and work at Ace Chemicals to support his sisters._

_She noticed he looked sad, so she pushed herself back up, wrapping her arm around his chest and resting her chin on his shoulder. "Come on, Jonah." She said, nuzzling her oldest friend a bit. "We're gonna be fine, this whole thing is gonna be fine." _

_He looked over his shoulder at her, pressing his lips against her hair as he did so. "I know. I'll visit ya as soon as I can get some time off." He gave her the best smile he could manage. _

_She leaned back a little, pressing both hands against her glossy lips and squealing excitedly. "Oh, thank god!" she threw her arms around his neck. "I was totally bluffing I don't think I could survive a communal bathroom without you there to distract the girls in line for the toliet." _

_She felt the vibration of a chuckle in his chest, but he cut himself off, coughing a bit. The sound was gutteral, painful almost. _

"_You okay?" She leaned back slightly, noticing her hands were covered in crimson. His blood. _

"_Harle-" he weakly raised his hand to her. _

"_Jonah?" she was frantic. She looked back to him, and noticed a blade sticking out of his neck. "No," she leaned forward, barely catching his head before he slumped over. "No!" she shouted, cradling his head. _

"_Somebody do something!" her screams shook the trees around them, her vision grew blurry. She screwed her eyes shut, willing herself to be anywhere else but here. He needed to be okay, to be alive. _

"_I did all I could, baby." His haunting voice pierced her mind. She opened her eyes instantly, and she was back on there, in J's club. On the balcony. She looked down, and Jonah was gone. It was just here and Mistah J. _

_She looked up at him dumbly. "Mistah J?" No, she shook her head. He was gone. _

_He crotched down beside her, gripping her chin and tugging her head in his direction. "I did all I could, Harley, and I couldn't fix you." _

_He stood up then, stepping aside to reveal the entire squad, their bodies stacked in a bloody heap by the door to the club. _

_She stood up, fumbling over her feet and almost falling as she ran to her friends. "No…" she started, her voice breaking. She looked down at herself, her dress was ripped, revealing everyone else's blood all over her, her modification glistering crimson under the moonlight. _

"_I didn't do this," she shook her head, kneeling down and craddling Waylon's head in her lap. "I couldn't have done this." She shook him a little bit, before leaning forward and poking Flag, neither of them moved. _

"_But you did," She heard Floyd's voice behind her. She whipped her head around, and he was standing a few feet back, fists balled up at his sides. He wasn't in his squad gear, just normal street clothes. _

_She stood up, taking a few steps forward. "Floyd, I didn't-" she stopped when she noticed he was backing away from her. "You gotta believe me." _

_She felt hands grasp her shoulders from behind her. "Do it," Mistah J's voice rang in her ears. His nose nuzzling the shell of her ears. "Do it, Harley. Prove to me you're still worth it." _

_She felt a pounding in the base of her neck, she slammed her eyes shut, shaking her head. But all she could hear was J. "Do it!" he shouted, and on pure instinct, she opened her eyes, raised a pistol from her holster and shot Floyd in the chest. _

_The pain in her head subsided, and she saw him collapse. "No," she started towards Floyd, but J's grip on her stopped her. _

_He spun her around, his hands grasping her hips in an iron grip. "I knew it, baby." He said happily. "I knew you could do it." He leaned in, smacking his lips against hers with a dramatic smooching sound. _

_She tried to squirm out of his grip, shouting for someone to come help. "Someone!" she looked over at Floyd, his eyes glossed over in a lifeless glaze. _

"No!" she shot up from her bed, breathing heavily. She was covered in a cold sweat, and the blankets were twisted up all around her legs. Her hand rushed to the base of her neck, terrified J's programming was back there. But no, it was empty. Just as it had been since that night.

It took her a few moments to realize where she was. At the safe house. She glanced down at herself, no blood, her's or otherwise, but the modifications still shined in the minimal light from the moon out the window.

She ran a hand over her hair, "Jesus fuck," she muttered, looking over at the alarm clock beside the bed.

_3:02 a.m. _

"Well that's great," she grumbled, draping her legs over the side of the bed. She placed her elbows on her legs, rubbing her palms against her eyes.

_What the Hell was that? _

She tried to breathe evening, but the room felt too small, to hot. She was suffocating. She needed to get out of here. Put some distance between herself and an entire place that reminded her of everything she'd lost.

She twisted her waves back into a braid before she stood up and grabbed a pair of jeans and a sweater she'd left folded up on her dresser. She threw the clothes on quickly, grabbing her boots from the floor and lacing them up quickly.

She threw the door open, not considering the noise it probably made. She headed down the hall, jogging down the stairs and exiting out the back door. There was a dock at the edge of the property. She remembered sitting out there once with John-

She shook her head, correcting her memory, but shaking it harder, not wanting to relive these moments at all. She couldn't face up to what she'd done.

She felt her heart beating quicker, which made her stop along the trail and lean over, pressing her hand against a nearby tree as the other flew to her chest, her palm flush against her chest. The beats were faster than she could remember recently. Since what J had done to her, she had barely been able to feel anything at all. Her heart rate barely rose above anyone's resting rate, and the fluttering in her chest felt brand new.

She wanted to hope that maybe, _whatever this was_, would be ending soon. Maybe she could be normal again.

She shook her head harder at that. _Normal's a setting on the dryer. _

"Fuck!" she shouted into the darkness, pushing herself away from the tree. She stared at it's bark for a moment, breathing even heavier. She was finally feeling something, such intense _anger. _

"Fuck, fuck!" her screams reminded her of a rabid animal. She cocked her fist back and punched the tree as hard as she could. The bark crumpled under her enhanced strength, a big chunk of the tree flying off.

She winced, pulling back to see her knuckles bloodied from her outburst. She hugged her fist to her chest, her unharmed hand putting pressure over her busted knuckles. But still, she had a growing sense of hope. Maybe it wouldn't-

The searing pain of her flesh melding back together killed the thought as soon as it entered her mind. She uncovered her fist and saw her knuckles, good as new. The only evidence of any violence was her blood, still sticky from recent injury and the battered tree trunk beside her.

She traced her index finger over the blood on her hand, her blood. It was still crimson, but it didn't feel like hers. She sucked on her finger, trying to grasp at anything. It tasted the same, coppery and unpleasant, but it didn't make her feel any less alive.

She took a deep breath, considering hitting the tree until it came down. Maybe it would fall and crush her.

_Wishful thinking._

She pressed on, walking to a small clearing in the short trail that lead out to a dock. She walked out to the edge, sitting down and letting her legs dangled off the side. The bottoms of her boots barely scratching the surface of the water. The once still sheet now rippling across the river. She could see the lights across the river at Gotham.

She found herself thinking of her old life, but she thanked God that J was still gone.

_It had only been a dream_.

"Hey," Floyd's voice pierced her thoughts.

She turned her head so quickly she wondered if it would've strained her muscles if she was still normal.

She noticed him cringe at her response. She knew it was probably at his own mistake of sneaking up on her, but she was in a sour mood since her dream, so she huffed through her nose and looked back out on the water.

_Of course he was cautious around her. She wasn't even a person anymore. Just a fucking weapon. He knows what she did to-_

"Hey," she said softly, cutting off her thoughts before they dragged her back to the part of her mind where Jonah lived now. She shoved his memory in a box since it happened. She wasn't about to open it now. Not with Floyd here to witness anymore of her sins.

"Mind if I sit?" he asked after a beat of silence.

She shivered slightly as the wind picked up, but she shrugged. "No problem."

He sat down, mirroring her position, but a few feet away from her. She noticed he had taken off his shoes and rolled up the legs of his sweat pants. His feet disappeared in the water.

They hadn't really talked since their conversation the other night. They read his kid's book together for about an hour, but no real conversation were exchanged. After some time, she noticed he had nodded off. She just put the book down on his nightstand and let herself out.

She'd gone out of her way not to see him since then. She hadn't seen much of anyone. Resigning herself to her room, and she had told Waylon she had a migraine when he came knocking well into the next day.

For a little while, she wasn't sure and doubted he had been counting the minutes himself, the wind picked up again, and she let out another fuckin' shiver.

She felt her face twist into a snarl for a moment, irritated with J once again.

_Couldn't he have at least added a heater option? If he was gonna fuck up her body this much, it was only right he make sure she was never cold again… _

"You cold?" he asked her, pulling her from her internal cursing of her ex.

She shook her head, but shivered again. She rolled her eyes at herself, but decided to try and break the tension with a joke. "You'd think if I could survive bullets, the wind wouldn't do me in." She let out a dry, humorless laugh. "Just like Mistah J to cheap out on the heating option."

She heard him snort, but she didn't have to look his way to know he probably didn't find it very funny either.

She did notice him moving though. He had leaned back, pulling his arms out of his black cardigan.

She turned to look at him then, just as his arms were wrapping it around her.

"Floyd, it's okay. I was just jokin-" she started, trying to lean away. She didn't want to cause him discomfort. She'd ruined his life enough. The very least she deserved was to shiver a bit in the night.

He shook his head at her, "Don't worry about it."

She was about to protest again, but the warmth of his body still lingered on the sweater. His smell enveloped her, and the subtle assault on her sense pacified her for a moment. She wondered if her sense of smell was heightened as well.

"Thanks," she murmured, unable to focus on anything but this feeling.

His scent was subtle, but pleasant. It made her feel safe, but something was off. She felt a weird sensation at the base of her neck, and it spread to behind her eyes. It reminded her of the woods, a long hike on a cold night…

"Harley, you alright?" he asked, but he was back with his feet in the water. If he'd leaned toward her, it wasn't enough for her to really notice.

She tried to look his way, but her vision felt disorted. She heard him off to her side, where he had just been, but something was pulling her away.

"_I swear, Muffin!" she called, a tease playing in her tone. _

Harley snapped her head towards the source of the sound. It was her, walking out of a tree line on a different trail. She felt her breath catch in her throat. She was watching herself.

"_I'm not saying I don't enjoy the fresh air, Dollface," Floyd replied, walking out of the clearing behind her. He stopped for a moment, watching her walk a little futher ahead. _

_They looked like they had submitted a small mountain, at some clearing where it was just the two of them, surrounded by stars. _

"Floyd-" she started, wanting to tell him what she was seeing, but her perception felt off. She looked down, and she wasn't sitting on the dock anymore. She was sitting on the rock face of wherever she and Floyd had been. She wondered if this was a memory. She looked over her shoulder, but she didn't see anyome with her.

"_What?" _

She turned her head back towards the scene before her.

_She was standing a several feet ahead of him, standing up on a rock, so she looked like she was towering over Floyd. _

_He smiled up at her, walking forward until he stopped in front of her, his head coming up to her chest with their new height difference. "I was just enjoying the view." _

_Harley scoffed at him as he wrapped his arms around her hips, giggling as he pressed a kiss against her sterum. "I told you you'd enjoy the view! But you kept saying it would be overcast." _

_Floyd chuckled at her, "It still is overcast, Dollface. But I'd stare at ya anywhere." He said with a teasing tone of his own. He gave her a wink before she squirmed out of his embrace. She smiled as she lightly pushing him away. _

"_You'll see," she said, bending down until she was in a sitting position at the edge of the mountain. "I read about this online. We should have a perfect view of that star Bruce Wayne bought. Said it could be part of a new universe or somethin'." _

_Floyd walked up behind her, sitting down and spreading his legs. She looked over her shoulder at him, grinning as she scooted back into his embrace. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her as close to him as possible. _

_He was wearing that same cardian, and she was in a sports bra and purple leggings. _

"_You cold?" he asked, his nose nuzzling the shell of her ear. _

_She nodded, "A little bit, but it's okay." _

_Floyd leaned back, taking off his cardigan and wrapping it around her shoulders. _

_She turned back again, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. "Thanks, Muffin." _

_His eyes scanned her face, a small smile creeping on his lips as she went back to staring at the sky. _

"_Isn't it beautiful?" she asked, breathlessly staring at the stars, now even more concealed by the clouds. _

_His eyes never left her. He looked as if he was studying the curves of her face. "Yeah, it is." he whispered. _

_After a few moments, rain began to fall. _

"_Harley-" Floyd started, leaning back from her a bit. "It's really coming down out here." _

_She looked over her shoulder at him, "What?" _

"I said it's coming down out here." Floyd was really close to her now. And she was back on the docks. It was raining here too.

She blinked after a couple seconds. "Huh?" she looked around quickly, not understanding.

_Was that a memory? _

"Are you alright?" He had gotten up, leaning over her. It should have intimidated her. The only time J ever stood over her was when he was kicking the shit out of her. But, after whatever she just saw, she somehow knew he was standing so close to block her from the rain.

She stood up quickly, almost bumping heads with Floyd, who looked even more confused. "Shit! I'm so sorry, Floyd." She pratically ripped his cardigan off her shoulders, shoving it back to his chest.

The absence of his scent left her feeling stripped again. The fleeting memory leaving her with his clothing.

She didn't want to mention it. What if it wasn't real? She didn't want to make things worse.

_But what if it had been real? It felt real… _

"Let's head back." she said, forgetting why she even came out here to the begin with. Feeling foolish for walking off and even worse for not asking him why he came out here.

She walked back up towards the house, the rain subsiding a little bit under the cover of the trees.

Floyd was right behind her, "Harley. Wait," he asked, his voice sounding off. Like it was teetering on the edge of something. It didn't suit him, she decided. He sounded scared, and she fought the instinct that told her to kill whatever made him sound that way. But she felt willed that sudden sense of protectiveness away.

"Yeah?" she asked, wrinkling her nose after a cold drop fell from the canopy of leaves and hit her unexpectedly.

"Did you see something?" He asked, avoiding her eyes.

She tilted her head. "No, why?" She didn't miss a beat. _Don't give him false hope_, she told herself.

"You said something."

She raised an eyebow, "Oh?" _Shit. _

He nodded, "You said, we had a great view of a star that Bruce Wayne owned." His voice sounded so hopeful, and he finally chanced it and looked at her.

Her lips formed a small "_oh,_" but she couln't bring herself to say anything.

They just stared at each other for awhile in the dark, the only sounds breaking up the silence was the light rain hitting the leaves above them, and the occasional cricket chrips in the woods around them.

"Was that-" she started, but cut herself off.

"A memory?" Floyd finished, before she could find it in herself to do so. He ran a hand over his face, as if he was scrubbing his expression into something more neutral. Like he didn't want to startle her with his hope and send her running back to the safe house before he had the answer.

"Yeah," he said finally. "That happened."


	5. Promise Me This is Real?

"Okay, Ms. Quinnzel," the doctor's voice from the PA system called to her. "I'm gonna need you to lie really still for this next part."

"It's just Quinn," she muttered, rolling her eyes.

"Right," she heard Flag's voice over the PA now. "Just lie back and don't move, Quinn."

She took a deep breath and tried to relax. She hated these tests she had to get now, but Waller had ordered she be seen regularly since she'd been brought back from Mistah J. While the rest of the Squad, including Flag, had seemed outraged or sympathetic to her new enhancements, Waller seemed to have this disturbing fascination with her new abilities. She sometimes wondered if Waller would have made a little chip in her neck like J had done.

She rolled her eyes at the thought. But, another person taking the reins in her brain might not be the worst thing. She could barely go a day in her situation now without making it sometimes messier. Not that she'd ever suggest going so far under someone's thumb again that she'd lose herself. _Can't a girl just be a little down on herself from time to time? _

This test was different though. No physical fitness exams, no intense training and heartbeat monitoring. She had an inkling Floyd went to Flag with the news of her memory as soon as it happened. Cause, this morning, she was being checked out of the house for a "random" checkup.

And here she was, getting an MRI and some probing questions about what she remembered. Which, the truth was, wasn't much at all.

Flag stood behind the glass barrier, watching Quinn's feet twitch slightly as they stuck out of the MRI machine. It was so loud, and he hoped for her sake her mods made it harder for her to get headaches.

He bit back a chuckle at the thought, _feeling bad for Harley Quinn. _A year ago? He hadn't even heard of Harley Quinn, and after that? Feeling anything but disdain for her was out of the question.

His relationship with the Squad baffled him most of the time, even now. He knew who they were, or at least he thought he had them pegged. But, risking their lives to help him rescue June from the Enchantress? Not a total-bad guy moves there. Not even in the ballpark of bad.

Plus, he never really felt like anyone could have Harley Quinn pegged, not even Floyd or her past beau, the Joker.

Getting to interact with the Joker in his element did give him a new understanding of Quinn though. He wanted her to be completely and utterly subservient, and while Flag knew that in theory, seeing it in action was more fucked up than he could've imagined.

Thinking of it even now made him want to go back in time and crush his green-haired skull in, and he wasn't even sleeping with her. He shook his head, thinking of Lawton.

He felt a newer connection to Lawton now too.

"_The only woman I've ever loved is trapped inside that monster." _

Lawton didn't know him, and he especially didn't owe him shit. But still, he stuck it out till the end so Flag could get her back. Job or not, Flag wanted to do the same for Lawton here.

Ironically, this situation feels a lot more complicated than demonic possession.

_It was well after 4 a.m. when a banging woke him and June up. _

"_What is it?" she said, shooting up in bed and reaching for her glasses. _

_He jumped up immediately, pulling on a pair of sweatpants and grabbing his gun from the nightstand. "Stay here, baby." he murmured, slinking down the hallway towards the stairs. _

_The banging continued, but he quickly saw through a window that it was just Lawton outside his door. _

_He whipped the door open, glaring at the hitman for a moment. "Lawton, it's the middle of the fuckin' night." He ran a hand over his face, "What do you want?" _

_Before he answered, he pushed past the Flag and let himself in. _

_He rolled his eyes, "Sure, make yourself at home." _

_Flag started to follow him into the kitchen, but he stopped short for a moment. He hadn't noticed before, but Floyd looked terrible. _

"_Man, what's the problem?" _

_Lawton sat down at his and June's small kitchen table, his elbows resting on the metal table top. He palmed his face, and sighed deeply. _

_Flag was about to ask again, but Floyd spoke up. "She remembered something." _

_He stepped forward, sitting down across from his friend. _

"_What was it?" he asked, intrigued._

"_We went hiking once, when Zoe did an overnight field trip. She wanted to look at some constellation that Wayne bought or some shit." Floyd sounded far away, almost like Harley did before - well, all this stuff. A ghost of a smile appeared on his face, but it vanished almost instantly. _

"_She remembered us hiking out to look at it one night," he scrubbed his hand over his head. His story hung heavy in the air. _

_Flag nodded after a moment. "That was all?" _

_Lawton looked up at him. "This could be big, right?" _

_Flag crossed his arms over his chest. "It's definitely a first. Unless she's just not been mentioning when she's had other memories." _

_He gave Flag a thoughtful look, "She wouldn't keep this from us." _

_Flag nodded again. "I don't think so, but she's much more withdrawn than before. Just a thought." He pulled out his work phone, jotting down a note. _

"_What're you doing?" Lawton asked, leaning forward in his seat a bit. _

"_Letting Waller know. I'll take her in for an appointment tomorrow. Maybe her scans can tell us something different." Flag muttered, but he stopped mid-text to Waller. He looked up at his friend, and he felt a heavier feeling in his chest. _

"_What is it?" Lawton asked, narrowing his eyes a little. _

"_Have you two reconnected at all?" Flag wanted them to be closer, despite his instincts telling him not to get too involved. He knew Floyd loved her, even now, and he knew that Quinn had loved him too. But, sharing this information with Floyd without her knowledge felt wrong. _

_He shook his head. "We've talked a few times, but nothing like before. That's the memories, I think. Why?" _

_Flag raised and lowered one shoulder, "I understand what you guys had, and the unique situation you're both in now." He took a deep breath, unsure of how to say this without setting Lawton off. "But, if she doesn't want the results shared with anyone on the squad, we'll have to respect that." _

_Lawton's features twisted for a moment. Flag honest-to-God thought his friend might vomit, but his expression seemed to still, and his face became unreadable. He stood up, rubbing the back of his neck. "I uh-" he coughed a little, trying to push down the cracks in his voice. "I get that. Just, uh, if it's bad, will you, uh..." he trailed off. _

_Flag stood up too, and immediately nodded. "I don't think this is a bad thing, Lawton. But, I'll talk to her about keeping you in the loop, if she seems up for that." _

_Lawton nodded at him, "Thanks." _

The MRI machine's loud pounding stopped suddenly, pulling Flag from his thoughts.

"I think we have what we need to figure this out," Dr. Sanderson told him. "Do you want to wait with her in a patient room?"

Flag nodded, "Yeah, just point us in that direction."

It definitely felt odd waiting with Quinn at a doctor's appointment. If he had had it his way, he would've at least asked her if she wanted to be alone. But, Waller still thinks cuffing the squad to a hospital bed with 24 hour surveillance is a good idea. He knew he wasn't Quinn's favorite member of their little team, but he knew for a fact all of them preferred interacting with him to Waller.

He flipped through a random magazine he'd picked up, pretending to read about the dangers of seasonal depression. Every few seconds, he would look up subtly at Quinn. She was out of her hospital goan and back in her leather pants and a black tank top. Her clothes actually unsettled him a bit now. She wasn't in totally dark colors, she had this shaggy jacket on that had different shades of red and black, but she was definitely more muted than she had been, in every aspect of the word. It was like she was trying to make herself as small as possible.

Her clothes were quieter, much like her actions and behavior since she'd gotten back from the Joker.

Flag didn't consider himself an expert on women, but he had some experience in the coping with terrible fucking situations department, and it seemed like Quinn wasn't doing much of that at all.

"You're not fooling anyone with that magazine, Flag." she muttered, without looking up from filing her nails. He tilted his head at her once he noticed the nail file.

"How'd you get that in here?" he asked, not at all remembering seeing her with it.

"You really wanna know the answer to that one?" She deadpanned, glancing up at him with a small, challenging smirk.

He chuckled, _at least she still had some sense of humor. _"I just uh," he started, wanting to establish some kind of rapport with her now. She didn't really have anyone on the squad she talked to so much. Aside from small interactions with Waylon, she kept to herself from what Flag could tell. Up until very recently, she had pretty much pretended Floyd didn't exist. He wanted her to feel like he could have her back, if no one else was giving her that security now.

"You, uh, what?" She asked, irritating biting into her words. She dropped her hands against her legs, the small smacking sound drove her point home. Which was basically screaming at him to find it.

He blinked at her. _Right! Talk to her, you idiot_, he told himself. "I just wanted to let you know that I know this is probably weird, you know, having me here."

She went back to doing her nails. "Yep," she clipped, not looking up,

He rolled his eyes. "But, if I could give you the space for it, I would. It's just kinda a policy here."

She stopped for a moment, eyeing him from her position across the tiny, sterile room. "I get it," she muttered.

"I won't be sharing this with anyone, though." He offered, trying to reassure her.

"Waller?" she challenged.

He sighed, "Well, I have to report something back to her."

She nodded, but said something. He half expected her to bite back some horrible remark to him about that, but she seemed to understand that.

"I don't want Floyd anywhere near this." She mentioned after several beats of silence.

Flag found her eyes again. "I wasn't trying to-"

"I know we see the same shrink, and I know he told you about last night. How else would you have had the idea to get me checked out again?" Her words cut into him.

He dropped his head. "I get it. I just think he's concerned for you."

She shook her head at him, but her actions seemed more mechanical, less emotional than before. He could tell it bothered her, not having any memory of Floyd, but she was much slower to let it show. "Concerned or not, we are not involved as anything more than teammates. And this is my business. It's bad enough I have to deal with this with _you and Waller._"

She looked at Flag then, and his expression screamed pity, but he seemed to gather that that wasn't at all what she wanted from this interaction, so he masked it as well as he could've. "I understand," he responded, nodding at her. "This is your business. It can stay that way."

She nodded too, wanting to thank him, but the intense vulnerability about Floyd was enough. And, even if she could have it her way, Flag wouldn't be the one she would've brought to this. She wanted to want to bring Floyd, but her fear of negative results beat out her instinctual need to have him around. _It was better this way. _

Before either of them could say anything else, Dr. Sanderson walked in.

"Okay, Ms. Quinn," he nodded to her. Pulling up her scans on the monitor near the table she was sitting up on. "So," he started, pulling up scans from a date stamp eight weeks prior, when they first brought her in after Mistah J. "This is your brain activity from almost two months ago." He pointed towards some brighter spots towards her hippocampus. It was flashing, indicating that the functions from that area still worked, but it was weaker. She smirked to herself, remembering her time in med school fondly at this moment.

"Okay," she said, wanting to hear the news. "And now?"

He gave her a surprised look, but seemed to get that she understood what the scans conveyed. Out of the corner of her eye, Flag leaned forward, trying to get a better view of the screen as well. Probably to report back to Waller. She fought the urge to roll her eyes at the thought.

He opened the next set of scans, the screen indicating that there was more flashing to her hippocampus. More activity, but not by much.

She felt deflated, and kicked herself for feeling that way. _One inclining of a memory isn't gonna solve all your problems, _she scolded herself.

"So, it looks like whatever you've been doing lately has helped a little bit." he said, looking from the screen to her. "I imagine you're back in a place with people that you might not remember."

She felt Flag's eyes boring into her skull. "Yeah, I am working with one of the people I don't remember."

Dr. Sanderson made a small, "ah" sound. "And, your chart says that it was some kind of combination of modifications and electro-shock therapy that has impacted your brain activity, yes?"

Harley dropped her head, not wanting to discuss this at all. "I, uh, forgot before the enhancements were added, but there were modifications to my frontal lobe, I believe."

Sanderson looked intrigued. "These were added surgically, yes?"

She raised and lowered one shoulder, not having much of a memory of those few days with J before the night on the balcony either. "I guess so."

He nodded, "There is an area on the base of your skull, where I've been told you had some sort of device removed. Did this device affect that?"

She felt more staring from Flag, so she shot him a warning look. His face was etched with sympathy, but it was wiped from his face as soon as she met his eyes. He looked down, back at the magazine. She looked back to the doctor, "Yes, without the device, I can think relatively freely."

He gave her a thoughtful look as he nodded. "Interesting." He wrote some notes down in her file, which seemed to be getting two inches thicker per visit.

_Well, at least her team of doctors were getting something from her situation. _

"Well, I want to see you back here in a month for another scan. I also want to get a look at the area soon. Maybe schedule a procedure to get a look around."

Harley nodded, but wasn't sure about how she'd do under the knife now. "These enhancements might make it harder."

He tilted his head at her, "How so?"

She leaned forward, taking a pen from the pocket of his coat. She clicked it and jammed it into her wrist.

"Jesus Quinn!" Flag shouted as he stood up quickly. She figured his reaction was more about her scaring the doctor than fear of her being in long term pain. Flag had seen her heal from much worse a lot more often. It was just probably hard to find doctors willing to work on actual criminal masterminds.

Dr. Sanderson sprang into action, grabbing the pen from her and tossing it on the table beside him. He started to apply pressure to the wound, but Harley gripped his wrist firmly. "Just wait a sec," she told him.

His eyes widened as he wanted her skin weld itself back together. "Jesus," He muttered, running a finger over her skin, good as new. "I read about this in your chart, but I didn't quite believe it."

Harley nodded, "It is something, I guess."

"Yeah," the doctor chuckled nervously, writing something else down. "Okay, so I'll have to think of alternatives to surgical procedures for the time being." He looked over at Flag, "I would monitor this as well, whenever you're out in the field."

Flag nodded at him, "Anything else I should look out for?" he asked. The concern he seemed to harbor for her made Harley want to either give him a hug or vomit. The starkness between her feelings confused her, but she was used to that.

Sanderson made a small, ponderous sound. "I want to do more tests on that port at the base of your skull next time we have you in, Ms. Quinn."

Harley nodded, "Do you think it could affect my memory?"

"Well, I'm unsure how related they are, but if a device that was housed there did affect your brain activity, I wouldn't be surprised if the device also suppressed any memories you might have had while it was attached. Since you have been experiencing some memories now, and you're not under its influence anymore."

Harley nodded, his idea made sense. Part of her wondered why she hadn't thought of it before.

"And, I'd continue with a psychiatrist, if you're seeing one already." He said, leveling her with a look of concern. "You've been through a traumatic event, and seeing a professional to really go over what happened might help bring back some of the lost memories quicker."

Harley nodded again, but she wasn't ready to get all into that.

Flag thanked the doctor after they were excused, and they drove back in mostly silence.

Once Flag pulled up to the safe house, he gave her a look that definitely indicated he had no idea what to say.

"I'm okay," she muttered, not wanting to get into this, and certainly not wanting to get into this with Flag. She still didn't truly believe he'd not spill all of this to Floyd. "But I'm serious, Floyd isn't my parent or my keeper. I can deal with this on my own."

Flag nodded, "Understood. We'll talk later on once I've briefed Waller on how to proceed with appointments and tests."

Harley nodded, biting back a groan. She hated having to include the two of them on this, but at least Flag seemed to kinda give a shit about her, or a shit about her and Floyd together, at least. Waller didn't seem to mind that she had no memories, only if it made her a wildcard. And, since J was gone, and she wouldn't go back to him on her own anyway, she wasn't really a flight risk anymore.

She got out of the car quickly, and tried to be quiet heading into the house. The tests took the better part of the day, and she hoped no one would be around to ask her where she'd been.

But, as the universe would have it, luck was not on her side today.

Floyd was sitting on a barstool, a beer open on the counter in front of him, and he was reading _The Phantom TollBooth_ again. He looked up from the book at her once she walked in. She was just gonna walk past him and shower. She wanted to scrub off the smell of the hospital that seemed to stick to her each time she visited.

"Hey, how was your time out?" He asked.

_Time out? Like he didn't practically orchestrate it all._

"Can I ask you a question?" She asked as she grabbed an apple from a wire basket on the counter in front of him.

He tilted his head at her, "Sure thing."

She bit into the apple, debating on whether or not she wanted to get into anything with him right now. She didn't like the idea of making him more upset, but the moment he feigned ignorance as to where she was, she realized she wasn't okay with his actions at all.

"When we were together…" she watched Floyd's eyes widen at her words. "Did you make all my decisions for me then too?"

He blinked at her, looking shocked for a moment. "This is about me going to Flag," he said. It wasn't quite a question though.

His lack of an answer told her pretty much everything she needed to know.

"Yep," she muttered, walking around the counter and heading towards the hallway to the bedrooms.

"Hey," he stood up. "Harley, I was just trying to help."

Harley threw a look over her shoulder. "I am an adult, and as much as I might seem like it to you, I don't need anymore men coming in and deciding what I need or don't need." She leveled him with her gaze.

She watched him practically shrink beneath her stare. But, for the first time since the night at the balcony, she wasn't feeling particularly guilty about this. "I thought you of all people would've gotten that, but at least _I know now_."

His jaw clenched, but he didn't say anything for several beats.

_Yeah,_ she thought bitterly. She took another bite of her apple and walked back to her room. He didn't stop her, and she was thankful.

She shut her door and locked it as soon as she made it to her room. She didn't want him following her, or anyone just barging in after the day she's had. She just wanted to shower and shut this all out.

She walked to her bathroom, practically throwing and kicking her clothes off as she went.

She waited until steam was filling up the tiny bathroom before she stepped into the shower. The scalding water barely leaving any impact on her skin. She sighed and ran her hands through her hair, letting the water slick it back.

_She could barely feel anything now. _

She wanted to fight for the memories, and she wanted to want them more than she did now. If not for Floyd's sake, for her own. He just went to Flag with such ease, as if it was second nature to cut her out of any discussions. _Was that what loving him was like? Did he not trust her to make any decisions on her own? To make any decisions together? _

She shook her head at herself, she needed to stop thinking for awhile. Maybe they'd come back faster if she stopped trying. She leaned her head back, stretching her muscles as the water hit her lightly.

"It's really coming down out here," she whispered to herself, closing her eyes. She felt the sensation at the base of her skull again, behind her eyes too. She took a deep breath. _Focus… _

"_It's not that bad!" Harley watched herself exclaim at him, as he stood up and put his hand out, helping her up as well. _

_They were standing on top of the mountain, the same mountain she remembered from the other night. _

"_It'll clear up in a second, I swear." She said with such conviction, but the rain just kept coming. The stars were covered with clouds, and for a moment, she found herself worrying that Floyd would react violently to her mistake. It was her idea to come here, and if she hadn't checked the weather properly, this might not end well. _

_Instead, he let out this deep, bassy laugh. "Okay, okay." he laughed harder, looking up to the sky and watching the rain come down. "I can totally see the stars now."_

_Harley pushed at his chest half heartedly, "Oh, screw you." She said, but there was no bite. She even laughed a little bit herself. "It might let up in a second!" She really wanted to be right, to have the stars come back out so they could gaze up into the night together. _

_Floyd kept looking up, smiling as the cloudy sky and the rain. Harley found herself staring at him, a deep line furrowing across her brow. _

_He met her eyes, his hands finding their way to her face. "What is it?" _

_She gave him a small smile as she bit her lip. "This is… this is real, isn't it?" _

_His concern dissolved into a grin as well. He nodded at her._

_She leaned into him, but stopped just before her lips made contact with his. "Promise me?" _

_He smiled at her, pressing his lips to hers for a second before pulling away. "I promise you, this is the realest thing in the world to me." She smiled at him and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him to her until their lips crashed together. _

Harley blinked rapidly, and she was back in her small, tiled showered. The beads of water zapping into her shoulder blades had pulled her from the memory. She shivered, realizing that the water had run cold, and it was biting into her skin.

She turned off the water and practically jumped out of the shower, wrapping herself in a towel quickly.

She walked over to the mirror, using her hand to wipe off the fog from her mirror. She looked at her reflection, and for the first time in her recent memory, there was a light blush to her cheeks. She lightly pressed two fingers to her lips and held them there for a few moments.

_Well, shit. _


	6. The First Mission

When she was with Mistah J, Harley made an active effort to work out as often as she could. She would sometimes, especially after a particularly bad beating, take a few days away to recover. The time away from J hurt her more than the beatings at times, and part of her was afraid that if she didn't maintain her physical fitness, Mistah J would leave her. If not for lack of attraction, out of annoyance that she didn't bounce back after any of his plans, _or his attempts to take his frustrations out on her. _And, at Belle Reve, once the idea for Task Force X took off, the squad had individual, tactical training three times a week so that Waller wouldn't lose on her overall investment in each of them.

Since coming to the Safe House, Harley stuck to an even more rigorous routine. It was both easier and harder to work out in this state. She could go a lot longer which was objectively a good thing, but if the squad was sparring, she could wear her teammates out quicker. And she was still afraid of hurting them.

Today, Katana was visiting, and she, Waylon, Drigger, Flag, and Harley were all in the basement level of the safehouse, which Waller had had converted into a pretty high tech gym for them to train in. They hadn't seen much action since the Fourth of July two weeks ago, but whenever Flag came knocking to work on training, she knew it would only be a matter of time before they were sent out for something else again.

Floyd was the only one absent from training. No one seemed surprised though. It was Saturday, and, on Saturday's, Waller willing, he had a standing appointment in Gotham with his daughter. She didn't know for sure what they did together every Saturday, but it was the only time he seemed less doom-and-gloom nowadays.

She sighed as she watched Katana kick the shit out of Drigger, _again. _She hoped today Floyd would come back in better spirits.

They hadn't talked in several days. Not since she confronted him about what he had said to Flag. She wasn't so much angry as she was surprised at him, and herself. She knew she had loved Floyd, any interaction with the squad led her to believe it had been nothing short of epic. And she wasn't angry at him for wanting that back, but she was angry with herself for choosing someone who seemed to disregard her, _again. _

Not that any experience she'd had with Floyd was remotely close to how terribly Mistah J had treated her. But, she at least hoped she had the sense to find someone that made her feel seen. Floyd, in her limited interactions and memories of him so far, hasn't really done that. He looks at her, sure. Practically stares at her with big, sad heart eyes every waking moment, but she can tell in his eyes that he isn't seeing _her. _He's seeing _his Harley_: the domestic, daughter-loving, housewife Harley. Which, originally, had been her biggest dream in life.

Now, all her dreams tasted like ash in her mouth. She felt like the shell of that Harley. And part of her felt like she shouldn't blame him for wanting her to go back to how she was. That's what they had, afterall, what she assumed she had wanted back then. The idea of playing house with someone that loved her should make her heart flutter. As she knew Floyd had once done, but now, it just feels like she might've just settled into being the mold of what another man wanted her to be. Whether that was Floyd's fault entirely or her own, Harley still hadn't decided.

"Hey, Craziness," Waylon goaded her, grinning wickedly at her. "You're up." He patted her shoulder as he went to stand where she had been.

She tilted her head at his amused expression, he looked almost like the cheshire cat when he smiled like that. He nudged her towards the sparring mat with his shoulder, and she realized why he felt particularly tickled about this. Flag had never sparred with her before, but there he was. Shoes off, standing in the middle of the mat, hands in the pockets of his sweats, looking almost _bashful. _

"At least I won't look like the biggest pussy here," Drigger cackled from the sideline, rubbing his side where Katana had gotten him good. "Flag won't even last two seconds," his grin grew even bigger.

Harley threw a half-hearted glare over her shoulder at him. "You sure you wanna do this?" She asked as she approached the mat, pulling her loose waves up into a ponytail as she watched Flag eyed her up and down, his confident expression faltering a little bit as he noticed her modifications, tracing the muscles within her skin.

Waylon must've noticed because Harley heard him chuckle to himself when Flag's eyes widened slightly.

"Flag?" she asked again, tilting her head at him after he didn't answer her.

He blinked a few times, "Yeah, I'm ready." His eyes were still scanning her arms, and the silver lines over the muscles of her exposed midriff. Her workout attire was the most revealing clothing she owned at this point.

She just wore a black sports bra and green leggings, no more sparkly spandex, no lingerie, no fishnets. Just jumpsuits and darker, leather fighting attire. She could almost hear J laughing at her now, he would've called her prudish and sliced up her outfit with one of his many knives. She wanted to shudder at the mental image, but she just stepped back to the edge of the mat.

"Katana, call it." Flag said, stretching his arms a bit before getting in a more combat-ready stance.

Katana counted off and whistled, and Flag ran at her instantly, crouching down as if he was going to tackle her like a football player. She sighed and stepped to the side at the last second. Flag was able to stop himself quickly and catch her arm when she threw a punch. He caught her by the elbow, yanking her back towards his chest and wrapping his other around around to try and pin her.

She hunched down and rolled forward, sending Flag flying forward onto the mat. She stood up immediately, jumping away from his sweeping kicks from below. She wasn't particularly interested in fighting Flag or any other teammates with any strategy but defensive. She'd managed to beat them all successfully with minimal inflicted injury.

Flag jumped back up, throwing a punch at her. She kicked at him, wrapping her leg around his arm tight enough that if he tried to get out of it, he knew she could break his arm.

Drigger chuckled at their position. "She's taking it easy on ya, Flagy!"

Katana shot Drigger a glare, but a smirk was playing on her lips. "Do you want to tap out, Rick?" she asked.

Flag, a little winded, smirked at Harley. "Nope!" He called back, using his leg to sweep under Harley's. She tumbled over, releasing Flag's arm instantly, afraid to break it. Flag backed up a couple steps, before running forward, probably in an attempt to gain speed to pin her successfully. Harley rolled her eyes, rolling onto her back and pulling her knees to her chest. As Flag moved to jump on her, she sprung her legs out, nailing him in the center of the chest. Not hard enough to do any real damage, but hard enough to knock the wind out of him. He landed hard on his back across the mat. He grunted, and she took her time getting up.

She padded across the mat to Flag, ignoring Waylon and Drigger's heckling and cheers. She stuck her out to help him up. Flag looked up at her, his eyes were wide, but not in fear. If she didn't know any better, she might have thought he seemed _impressed. _

He took her hand, allowing her to pull him to his feet.

"Thanks," he said with a small smile.

She looked up at him, smirking. "_Shut up." _

"That wasn't nearly as bloody enough, in my humble opinion," Drigger pouted.

Waylon nudged him, laughing. "I agree!"

Flag turned on his heel, pointing at the two of them. "Just for that, Drigger you're up."

Harley's head snapped in his direction, forcing one of her craziest grins in the Aussie's direction.

She bit back a giggle at Drigger's expression. He visibly gulped. "Uh," he fumbled for an exit strategy, glancing between Katana and Flag quickly. Neither of them were offering anything else but subtly amused expressions.

He groaned, "Fine, but I get back up!" He called, pointing at Waylon beside him.

Harley glanced between the two of them, but said nothing.

"I'm not sure that's a good idea…" Flag trailed off, looking back at Harley as if he was asking a silent question.

She shrugged, "Might be fun."

Flag snorted a little at her, putting his hands up in mock defeat. "So be it."

Waylon smirked at her as he and Drigger approached. The two boys walked to one side, where Flag had been. She watched Drigger get close to Waylon, pulling him around so their backs were to her. She smirked at the idea that they were probably strategizing.

She was going to let them take their time, coming up with a plan, but Floyd's voice broke through Flag and Katana's laughter and the boys' planning.

"Are y'all gonna sit there and talk shit, or are you gonna spar off?" He was leaning against one of their weight benches, his arms crossed over his chest. He looked lighter, bemused. He was in dark trousers and a maroon henley. He had pushed the sleeves up a bit, his toned forearms exposed, and the top two buttons undone. She willed herself not to stare at his exposed collarbone. _Jesus, get a grip Quinn_.

He seemed to be trying not to look at her, and she hated that she noticed.

Drigger shot Floyd a look, but he and Waylon turned around.

Harley practically had to tear her eyes from Floyd when Katana called it.

Drigger made a loud, grunting sound and ran at her, his fists already flying wildly ahead of him. Harley relaxed her ready position and just stared at him for a second. "Jesus," she muttered, taking a couple steps forward to meet Drigger in the middle. She brought her fist back, and sucker punched him in his clavicle.

"Damn!" Waylon shouted, doubling over with laughter as Drigger fell back on the ground.

He was holding onto his chest, "No fair!" he shouted, _well, choked_ at Harley. She looked down at him and blew a kiss before gesturing for Waylon to step up.

"I won't go down as easy, Craziness." He goaded, grinning at her.

"Wouldn't dream of it, Gorgeous." She said with a wink.

His movements were surprisingly swift for someone of his size. He tried to scoop her up, lightly pawing at her with claws. She ducked out of the way, trying to stay low and sweep at his thick legs. He used that to his advantage, trying to stomp on her. He kept missing her, but in her concentration to avoid getting stepped on, Waylon grabbed her with one hand by the throat, the other by her upper arm. She was grateful that he hadn't put all his force at her throat.

"Shit," she clipped, her voice coming out a little raspy.

Waylon leaned his face close to hers, grinning. "Give up yet?"

She smirked at him then, and with a lot of maneuvering, she was able to get her face close to his hand. She sank her teeth into a rather sensitive spot on his palm. "Ow!" he shouted, dropping her from his arms quickly. She planned for that, wrapping her legs around his neck and pulling herself up on his shoulders. He tried to grab at her and shake her off, but she held on with all her might. She looked at the top of his head and saw another sensitive spot, between his eyes. She brought her elbow down on the area, and he hollered.

"Okay! Okay, Jesus!" Waylon shouted, tapping her leg to opt out of continuing.

Harley smiled at him, wrapping her arms around the top of his head at an awkward angle. "You did better than that one, at least," she said, nodding to Drigger and kissing Waylon on the cheek. She pushed off from his shoulders and landed in a back handspring.

Flag and Katana were off to the side, clapping overdramatically at her as she stuck the landing and walked off the mat.

Waylon chuckled as he helped Drigger up, who was still laying on the ground, moaning overdramatically.

"That's what you get," Flag said with a smirk. He looked over his shoulder, glancing at Floyd for a moment. "Lawton, you wanna get in on this?"

Floyd glanced at Harley before checking his watch. "Nah, I got target practice tomorrow. Just figured I'd stop in and see Boom get his ass handed to him."

Drigger, who was leaning into Waylon way too much for it to be genuine, scoffed at Floyd. "Excuse me!" he gestured wildly between Floyd and Harley, "Just for that, he should get a round against her too!" He looked at Flag, "You made me do it."

Harley bit back a small, uncomfortable smile, and she spared at glance at Floyd.

She instantly noticed he had been staring at her, but once they made eye contact he dropped his head, suddenly super interested in his shoes.

"Okay," Flag said, "I think we've all done well this afternoon. We have a briefing on Monday for another mission, so I'll be back then."

Harley nodded, reaching back and tightening her ponytail before walking off, heading back down the hall.

"Quinn!" Waylon called after her, jogging down the hall to catch up with her.

She turned around, stopping so he could catch up. She also noticed Drigger lagging behind them a bit. She had to laugh, "Still milking our little match out there, I see."

Drigger scoffed again, "You sucker punched me! That wasn't fair." He leaned into Waylon once more, as if his legs were what had been injured, "I can barely stand after all that."

Waylon rolled his eyes and shoved him lightly away. "Jesus man. Suck it up, the night's still young, and I'm in the mood for another face mask."

Harley crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow at the two of them. "Really? Because I've never seen two people move faster than you both when you saw Floyd the other day."

Drigger rolled his eyes, "That was cause of the tension, Darling. I'm perfectly comfortable with my masculinity."

Harley smirked at him, "Yeah, sure you were." She looked to Waylon, "That you're excuse too, Hot Stuff?"

Waylon grinned at her, "Of course. It was almost as bad as when you found out about his mission back at Belle Reve in there."

She watched Drigger visibly cringe at his words. Harley tilted her head. _Mission?_

She glanced between the two of them. "What mission?"

Waylon looked over at Drigger, who also seemed to be struggling for words.

"Oh," Waylon started, rubbing the top of his head awkwardly. "I thought that you knew."

Harley narrowed her eyes at the two. "What are you talking about?"

Before either of them could say anything, Flag, Katana and Floyd were making their way down the hall together. They seemed to be in their own conversation, but they stopped short when they noticed her with Waylon and Drigger.

"Everything okay out here?" Flag asked, eyeing Waylon and Drigger.

"Uh," Drigger started, his eyes not leaving Harley's, "Yeah."

Harley tore her gaze from the two of them over to Flag. "They were just telling me about a previous mission, guess I must not remember this one."

Drigger leaned over and frogged Waylon in the arm. Waylon shot him a glare, "Hey, it's not my fault! I thought she knew."

Floyd stepped around Flag, "Knew what?"

Drigger pinched the bridge of his nose, looking between Floyd and Harley for a moment. "You don't know what got you out of prison, do you Harley?" Drigger asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

Harley raised her eyebrows at Drigger, crossing her arms and glancing at Floyd. He dropped his head, staring at his hands.

Katana stepped forward, nudging Waylon and Drigger along with her, "Come on, guys."

Waylon shrugged her off, sending a glare to Floyd and Flag. "Neither of you thought to mention it? After all this time?" His voice was gritty, but Harley had never seen him look that way. So, _disappointed _in their leaders.

Drigger our a hand on his shoulder, "Come on, Mate." He sent Floyd a glare of his own too. "She should hear it from them," and the boys followed Katana out.

Harley looked over her shoulder, watching them walk away.

After a moment, she turned back to Flag and Floyd. Flag looked downright uncomfortable. He kept glancing between the two of them. Floyd, however, couldn't meet her eyes.

"So?" She asked. She had no more clarity about whatever it was Waylon had referred to, but judging by Floyd's sudden change in mood, it definitely wasn't something he planned on telling her anytime soon.

Flag looked between them again, before giving in. "You know how June and I got together, right?"

Harley tilted her head at Flag, thinking back to the deal Waller made with Flag. "Yeah, why?"

Floyd coughed a little, as if he was clearing his throat. "We were past this before," he motioned weakly between them, "everything happened." He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "But, uh, Waller offered me my freedom, and full custody of my daughter, if I, uh, bonded with you."

_Oh. _

Harley felt a heavy weight forming in her chest, she felt herself physically gulp to push it down. "So, all that stuff with me leaving J to start a new life. It had nothing to do with me, did it?" She asked after a moment.

Floyd shook his head immediately. "No, you left on your own. That didn't change."

She blinked at him for a moment, not saying anything. "What happened at Belle Reve before he came back to get me, then?"

Flag spoke up then. "Not much changed, you and Lawton just had access to see one another while in prison."

Harley nodded, "So, did he ask for that before or after Waller propositioned him with an out?" Her eyes didn't leave Flag. She didn't know what she'd do if she looked at Floyd then. She felt a mix of emotions swirling inside her. None of them were things she wanted to tangle with in front of either of them.

"After," Floyd muttered. He stepped forward, leaving Flag behind him. Harley took a chance and glanced at him then. "But, I didn't agree to anything until Waller agreed to let you go too if it worked out."

"And it worked out for you, didn't it?" She asked, suddenly feeling breathless. She felt far away, like she was watching this interaction from across the room instead of living it.

He chewed on the inside of his mouth, letting out a sharp breath through his nose. He seemed to want to reach for her again, like he does sometimes. He didn't, and she was happy about that at this moment.

"Quinn," Flag started, trying to diffuse any conflict before it started.

She shook her head. "Nope. No, it's good," she bit back. Her eyes finding Floyd, she felt a resentful grin form across her lips. She wanted to push down any emotional reaction. She hated how he seemed to react to her expression, like he knew from her look that he had fucked up.

_Like their "great love" hadn't been based on some kind of transaction. _

She shook her head, dismissing her thoughts. She looked at Floyd then, "I'm glad it all worked out for you. You got ya freedom, ya kid, and a housewife." She took a deep breath, suddenly feeling overwhelmed.

_Don't look at him, don't look at him, don't look at him. _

"Harl-" he started, actually reaching out and putting a hand on her shoulder.

Before she even opened her eyes, she stepped back quickly. She felt like she was going to be sick. "No," she said again, opening her eyes and actually facing him. "I get it, _sellout. _You got everything you wanted for this, and I got," she looked around briefly, as if she was looking for something she must've forgotten. Then, she looked down at her arms, gesturing towards her modifications. "-all this fuckin' bling. So, _really._" She breathed, "I should be _thanking you._"

Floyd stepped back at that, as if her words had actually struck him.

Flag stepped up once more then. "Quinn, you would've been left in prison if he hadn't-"

"Maybe that would've been the better fuckin' option. Ever thought of that, Flagy?" She bit back. "If I had stayed there, none of this would've fuckin' happened."

She stepped back again, preparing to walk off.

"Is that really what you think?" Floyd asked finally, as if he found his voice again in all this.

She turned back to him, barely shifting her body to face him then. "You don't get to ask me shit anymore, _Deadshot._" She turned to Flag then, "I'll be at the debriefing Monday."

It took everything in her not to sprint back to her bedroom, like some pathetic child in the throws of a temper tantrum.

Once she made it to her room, she shut the door, sinking down with her back against it. She finally felt it. Well, _felt something. _

_Something so intense that she couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was. _But it was piercing into her chest like a fucking bullet.

She shook her head, running her hands through her hair, knotting her fingers at her roots and tugging lightly, trying to create a separate feeling to distract from this new one.

"_Jesus, fuck." _she muttered, blinking furiously in spite of herself.

It didn't matter now. Tears were falling anyways.

_And she couldn't even remember why. _


	7. She's a Ghost

He thought she'd be early to their briefing, as it was a normality now, but by the time Katana entered their dining room - that mostly served as a meeting area now - with Drigger following her like a lost puppy, she still hadn't shown.

He decided to buy some time, so he got up and went into the kitchen and made another coffee. By the time he got back, Flag was setting up, and Waylon was dragging himself in, not even bothering to stifle a yawn.

After a few minutes of watching Flag get ready, passing out files to every seat, including Harley's vacant one, Floyd couldn't take it anymore.

"Hey, uh" he started, rubbing a hand over his face before he continued. "Where's Ha-"

The door opened before he could finish the question. Harley walked in, her thin frame covered by a larger black sweater and leather, tighter pants. Her long hair was pulled back into a low ponytail, and a few of her modifications were visible on her shoulders, which were exposed.

Floyd felt a sharp intake of breath when his eyes finally met her face. No makeup, which wasn't _abnormal. _She usually doesn't do the crazy makeup she had done when they first met, but there was at least something. Now, she walked in, her back straight but she seemed rigid. Her eyes looked sleepy, and the lines in her face seemed sharper, her frame thinner.

He was a little surprised he hadn't noticed before, but she looked so _small. _He knew she could snap everyone's neck in here before any of them could get out of their seats, but she still just looked like she was wasting away.

"Sorry," she muttered, her voice a little raspy. She cleared her throat, "I'm here now."

Flag looked to her, his eyes darting to Floyd for a moment before nodding to Harley.

"Okay, let's get ready," Flag commanded, clearing his throat.

It seemed simple enough. Lex Luthor, who had recently been busted out of prison, _ironically by J, _was expecting a shipment out at a run-down pier on the outskirts of Gotham, out past an abandoned amusement park that he remembered going to as a kid once or twice.

If Flag knew what Lex was expecting from that shipment, he didn't fill them in.

Floyd worked for him back in the day, which wasn't surprising. Guy was a little twerp at times, and besides his pension for trying, _and failing, _to take over the world, he paid good money for the people he wanted dead.

J and Lex had plenty of deals between them before he died, so Harley also seemed familiar with this place.

Waylon even admitted to have previously acted as the muscle for Lex's crew as well. He'd also lead his smugglers through the sewers in Gotham before too.

So, they seemed like the perfect crew to be going after Lex's shipments. Most of them had worked for him, whether it was as smugglers or as guns. Floyd wasn't worried, they'd be in and out quickly. And whatever it was Waller wanted so badly would be hers. He just hoped it wasn't anything like the debacle in Midway.

_If that bitch wants another crazy witch to control…_

"I'm sorry…" Drigger cut Flag off, pulling Floyd from his thoughts. "Isn't it gonna be hard to go against this guy?"

"Why?" Harley asked before Flag could answer. Floyd glanced at her, she looked bored.

"Luthor paid you lot a pretty penny to work for him is all, and he seems like there's no shortage of resources at his expense," Drigger elaborated, his eyes moving between Waylon, Harley, and Floyd.

"Your point?" Flag asked, looking irritated.

Drigger rolled his eyes, "I'm just saying that, if he's the most well connected dude in the city, won't he know we're coming?" He pointed to Floyd then, "And, everybody thinks you're still dead. We've only done jobs outside of town. We've been able to fly under the radar. Won't this change that?"

Harley rested her elbows on the table, tilted her head before pointing at Drigger, "That is a good point, actually. This'll pretty much blow our cover, and I'm not all that fond of the idea of going back to prison." She glanced between the rest of them, except Floyd, and he noticed. "And no offense boys, I don't think I could stomach going back to sharing showers."

Waylon grinned at her, elbowing her lightly. She spared the crocodile man a smirk. Floyd couldn't help but smile weakly, at least she was connecting with _somebody. _

Flag nodded, "Okay, this is a good point, that's why we're gonna be a bit more stealthy than we've been in the past."

Floyd felt himself nodding, trying to force himself back into the briefing.

_Don't look at her, don't look at her, don't look at her. _

"We're gonna be splitting up on this one, squad," Flag's voice made Floyd's eyes snap up from the table to their leader.

"Huh?" Drigger asked, his voice raising a bit. "Split up? You're not even gonna have the decency to send us all to our deaths together?"

"Let him finish," Floyd muttered, getting annoyed with Drigger's melodrama today.

Flag nodded at Floyd before continuing. "I want Lawton on the rooftops, you're gonna be with a team of snipers from my old ranks. You'll monitor the scene from above, updating us on Luthor's movements the whole time. You'll also take out any threats for those of us on the ground."

Floyd nodded at this, despite a pang of disappointment weighing in his chest. He wouldn't get to be on this one with Harley, and he was hoping for that. He hadn't been able to get any moments with her edgewise. He knew she was still super pissed about the mission thing. It just baffled him somehow.

He knows, yes, he knows he should have told her sooner. But, it wasn't like he was _trying _to manipulate her. And it all ended up being real, so he didn't see the harm in it. His Harley had loved him after everything that happened at Belle Reve.

He furrowed his eyebrows as he looked at Harley, a ghost of the woman he loved. She used to love him, she had to have loved him.

_Right?_

He shook his head, removing the thought before it festered deeper in his brain. He was starting to feel a little fed up. She wasn't _his Harley. _This new woman, sitting in her chair, wearing Harley's face. This was a ghost, a shell of the woman he'd loved, a shell of the woman that loved him. And that was J's fault. His parting fuckin' gift to the two of them, Floyd could have Harley back, but she wasn't _Harley _anymore.

He breathed hard through his nose, dropping his head in his hands as he listened to Flag continue describing their plan.

"Waylon and Katana, you'll take a group through the sewers, stopping any of this product before it gets back into the city to Luthor," Flag continued, nodding at the two of them.

Waylon made a small, grunting sound in acknowledgement and Katana just nodded, glancing at Drigger before nodding again.

"Since Drigger is new to the area, and Quinn's pretty much changed up her appearance, the three of us will cover ground on the outskirts of the pier. The three of us, with a team, will secure the abandoned park and work our way to the pier, cutting off the crew before the shipment arrives."

Harley nodded, but Digger seemed to pale a bit at the order, but for once, he didn't question Flag's order.

Waylon on the otherhand, was excited as ever to get back to his roots - Gotham's sewers. "When do we start?" He asked, happily baring some teeth towards the group.

Flag gave them the timeline. The shipment arrived tomorrow at midnight, so they had some time to kill. Since he skipped sparring on Saturday, Katana volunteered to help him train a bit before they left for Gotham tomorrow.

Flag was about to dismiss them so the squad could prepare, but Harley cut him off.

"What about Lex?" Harley asked.

Flag's eyes moved towards her, "What about him?"

"You've given us directions to intercept the shipments, but, depending on what the shipment is, Lex will want to check it in person before he allows it to pass through the sewers through the city," She asked, flipping through the file as if they had missed something.

"She's right," Floyd interjected, nodding to Harley. "What's Waller wants us to do with him? Lex is almost always on the ground with a crew of muscle. It'll be hard for anyone on the ground to intercept them without being seen."

Harley furrowed her brows at the file again, but nodded at Floyd's words as well. "This all depends on what he's expecting," she looked up at Flag then, asking him a silent question with the tilt of her head.

Flag opened and shut his mouth a couple times, his jaw clenching.

"Flag," Floyd pressed, glancing between Harley and their leader. "What's the shipment?"

Flag kept his gaze on Harley, his eyes narrowing slightly.

Harley stared back at Flag, but she didn't look like she understood why he had zeroed in on her.

"Rick," Katana piped up, finally getting his attention. "Quinn's right, we can't do our jobs right if we don't know what he's expecting."

Flag glanced at Katana, before looking down at his feet.

"Oh, I get it," Harley replied, her eyes never leaving Flag's face.

"What?" Waylon asked, tilting his head at the reformed clown.

"He has no fucking clue what Lex is expecting," Harley replied, raising a challenging eyebrow at the colonel. "Do you?"

Flag glared at her, annoyance riddling his features for a moment. "He won't be at the docks to examine it," he offered simply.

"And how can you be so sure of that, mate?" Digger cut in, folding his arms over his chest. "In case you're forgetting, it's the three of us on the ground, and I don't wanna die."

"Just trust me on this," Flag muttered, dismissing the squad and leaving the room before anyone could challenge him again.

The rest of them sat in silence for a moment, a wave of uneasiness sucking all the air out of the room.

Before any of them could say anything, Katana stood up.

"Lawton, come on," she called, nodding towards the door as she looked back at him. "I have to train with you today since you missed Saturday's session."

Digger stood up too, stepping in front of Katana, looking down at her. "Hey, I don't think we're done here."

Katana stood tall, staring him down. "What else is there to say? We have a job to do, information or not."

Digger, "Well, I don't know about you _Tatsu_, but I don't wanna die out there because Flag hasn't done his homework."

Katana rolled her eyes at him, or, it looked like it from what little anyone could see of her face underneath the mask. "You're not going to die," Katana added, turning to Floyd once more. "Let's go, we need to catch up on some training."

Floyd nodded, throwing a last glance to Harley before heading out. If she had even noticed Digger and Katana's bickering, she didn't let on. She just kept flipping through the file, her face scrunching up in a thoughtful look as she scanned the pages.

He wanted to ask what she was thinking. He remembers her only getting that look when they'd stay up all night in their apartment planning for Waller's failed mission to bring in the Joker. He knew she had something on her mind, but he shook the thought of asking away as he left the room with Katana.

This woman wasn't _his Harley_, and who was he to assume he knew anything about this ghost. He needed to remember that.

Waylon leaned against Harley's bedroom door frame while Digger sat on top of her dresser. Both of them were quiet, watching Harley pace across her bedroom floor, the file left sprawled open on her bed.

"Okay, Craziness," Digger started, glancing at Waylon for a second. "I know you're not as insane as you used to be, but this pacing is really starting to freak me out."

"Waller never tells us all the details of her plans, but to keep shit from Flag?" She sat down on her bed, draping her legs off the side of her bed, and picking up a recon photo of Lex's latest shipment. It was too blurry to really give her any answers.

Digger nodded, pushing himself off the top of the dresser and walking towards the bed. He plopped down on the floor, his shoulder brushing against her leg as he sat. "So, what? We still have to do the mission. And it can't be worse than when Waller sent us to pick up Flag's possessed girlfriend, right?" He joked, looking up at her with a smirk.

She blew out a deep breath and leaned back, ignoring Digger's joke. She picked up the stressball on her nightstand that her shrink had given her a few sessions back and started tossing it in the air. The only sound for a few moments was the soft beating of the ball against the ceiling, then Harley catching it in her hand.

Waylon walked over to her bed as well, squatting down to glance over the file as well, unsure about what she was getting at.

"What feels off about this one, Quinn?" Waylon asked, rereading the briefing file twice over, with no more answers and a small headache forming.

He was a little confused, They had all pretty much treated the briefings as those boring meetings before they were able to go out and save the world. He'd never seen her take much of an interest in the details, so the facts of the mission were starting to rub him the wrong way as well.

Harley raised and lowered one shoulder, still tossing the stressball in the air. "I just have a weird feeling, is all. It's probably nothing, but I'll let you know if I figure something out."

The boys took that as their hint that she wanted to be left alone. Digger and Waylon pushed themselves up off the floor, heading towards her bedroom door.

"Craziness," Digger started, smirking at her as she sat up on her bed, raising an eyebrow at him. "I know this might not be your favorite research route, but in Midway, Lawton had a weird feeling about that mission too, and he turned out to be right. Maybe he could help you figure out whatever it is that's bothering you so much."

Harley's expression barely changed, just a small twitch of her lips that looked to Digger like a snarl. He raised his hands in defeat, "It's just a suggestion, but I get it."

Waylon said nothing, just nodded at her as the two men left.

Harley laid back down on her bed, unsure of what seemed so wrong about this mission.

He beat against a boxing bag as hard as he could. Katana had offered him a chance to spar, but the woman was almost as fierce as Harley, and Floyd wasn't as skilled in hand-to-hand as he was with his gun, so he wanted to avoid getting his ass kicked before they had to go out and fight for their lives, again.

The bag reminded him of the one he was allowed in his cell at Belle Reve, just with a lack of dust. It felt like a million years had passed since his time in that prison, since before he had met _her. _

_He was sitting in Belle Reve's infirmary after a particularly brutal beating from Griggs and the other prison guards. His eye was a bit swollen, and he wiped at the gash across his forehead, wincing as he realized the wound hadn't scabbed over yet. _

_He rolled his eyes as the "doctor" - another useless and over glorified prison guard, if you'd ask him - handed him a half-melted ice pack. _

"_Thanks for nothing," He snapped, laying the damp pack over his knuckles anyway. He didn't want to mess up his shooting hand, something told him he'd get to do some more shooting at some point, and he didn't want to screw up his $2 million-a-job hand. _

_The guard wrinkled his nose at him, "Shut up, Lawton. You're lucky we're even taking care of your sorry ass." _

_Floyd scoffed at him, but before he could retort, Griggs and a few other, unfamiliar guards burst in. _

"_We got another one," Griggs called, sounding more annoyed than anything else. _

_Floyd sat up then, trying to see who the guards had fucked up this time. As far as he knew, it was just him, some crocodile man, and some fire-eating gangster locked up in this hell hole. From what he's heard about both those guys, he didn't expect to ever find any company in the prison's infirmary. _

_He was surprised to see that a guard that ran in behind Griggs was carrying a woman. _

_Floyd leaned forward then, "Who is that-" he asked, wincing as he furrowed his eyebrows. _

_Griggs shot him a look over his shoulder that said, 'shut the fuck up.' _

"_She was brought in from Gotham, the boyfriend drove the car off a bridge and left her there." The guard carrying her in said, laying the woman on a stretcher. "Said she flew through the windshield, and he was gone by the time the car hit the water. Some crazy getaway plan."_

_The one "doctor," seemed a little out of his depth, but he pulled out a stethoscope and tried for her heartbeat. "Sounds like the boyfriend of the year. Has she been conscious at all?" He asked, raising an eyebrow as he moved some of her wet hair out of her face. _

_From what Floyd could see, she was incredibly pale, and she was still in whatever clothes she had been grabbed in. He wondered how long she was underwater, she looked half dead. _

"_The Batman said that he performed CPR in the field, but she's been under since he revived her," another guard called. _

"_The Bat brought her in?" Floyd shouted, groaning to himself as his chains prevented him from getting up from his cot. _

_The lot of them just continued, as if he wasn't there. _

_Floyd strained his neck trying to see who this woman was. For the Bat to bring her in? She must be pretty fucking terrible, but all he saw was this small, freezing woman that the doctors were quick to work on. What was so scary about-_

"_Jesus, is this who I think it is?" Griggs asked, tilting his head as he looked down at the woman's unconscious form. He seemed to be looking at something on her chest, a necklace maybe? It's not like he could really see. _

_The doctor moved a bit, bumping Griggs out of his way. "We may need to intubate, her heart rate is weak." Two guards ran off then, rolling a cart of equipment over to the stretcher. _

_Floyd watched in silence as the "useless" doctor intubated this woman, breathing a sigh of relief along with the rest of the guards once he saw her chest begin to rise and fall. _

_They wheeled her stretcher across the small room, the wheels hitting a crack in the floor as they passed Floyd's cot on the way out. He watched her arm fall from her side, dangling for a moment before Griggs grabbed her wrist, cuffing it to the side of the stretcher. _

_All Floyd saw was a scribbled looking "J" tattoo on her forearm. _

_Griggs, the doctor, and a few other guards left with him, but two stayed behind. He assumed they were there to make sure he didn't try and use this distraction as an opportunity to escape._

"_Hey," one guard, Robinson according to his badge, nodded to Floyd. "You know who that is?" _

"_Nah," he lied. "Why?" He had a hunch, but he wasn't going to give these guards shit on anyone, especially if it was the Bat that caught this woman. _

"_Her ribs were cracked every which way to Thursday," Robinson muttered, shaking his head. "Doesn't seem like Batman to do that if he don't have to, is all." _

_The other guard, Stevens, nudged Robinson quickly. "You idiot. That's Harley Quinn. Of course it wasn't the Batman. Her boyfriend's a psycho. I heard she gets off on getting the shit kicked out of her." _

_Robinson looked over his shoulder at Stevens, apparently forgetting Lawton was there completely. "Really? That's fucking crazy." _

"Lawt- Floyd!" Katana called, snapping him from his thoughts.

"Huh?" Flowd blinked, the first thing he noticed was a blinding pain in his right hand. He looked down and saw he had punched a tear in the bag, his knuckles grinding against the hardened sand inside the tear as it poured out all over the floor.

He stopped hitting the bag and surveyed his shooting hand. He winced at the bigger cuts on his knuckles, dirt already getting inside the scapes. _Shit. _

Katana, grabbed his arm, pulling him away. "Let me see," she said, well _commanded _really.

She made a quick "Tck," sound before leading him to the first aid kit against the wall. "Flag is going to kill me," she muttered sarcastically.

Floyd rolled his eyes, "Sorry," he muttered absentmindedly.

"Is it the mission or Quinn?" Katana asked, eyeing him questioningly.

Floyd shrugged, his eyes fixated on Katana's hands as she opened the first aid kit, grabbing antiseptic spray and a suture kit.

"Lawton, I know this is hard, working with Harley-"

"That's _not _Harley," he clipped.

Katana raised an eyebrow, spraying his hand as she spoke. "Oh no? Who is it then?"

Her question made Floyd realize how foolish he sounded. But he said nothing.

Katana sighed at him, stitching his hand quickly and precisely. "That woman is still Harley Quinn. She's still the woman you loved, memories or not," she wipped some excess blood from his knuckles. "Those modifications don't make her less human."

Floyd shook his head, "She's not _her_," he muttered. "She's basically a ghost now," he sighed.

Katana scrunched up her face then, almost like she was glaring at him, "Ghosts aren't living, breathing people." She finished up her sutures and covered his wound. "Harley Quinn is not dead, and it's probably not helping that you keep acting like she is."

She let him go then, putting the first aid kit back on the wall.

"Rest that hand, we have wheels up tomorrow at 1800 hours," she called over her shoulder as she left him alone in the gym.


	8. Southwest Rooftop

They were rounded up to go late the next afternoon, standing in Frost's spacious backyard where the helicopter would arrive momentarily to bring them to their positions.

Flag said they'd spend most of the day doing recon from their established positions, which meant Floyd gets to spend the day with a bunch of self-righteous soldiers. _Wonderful. _

A condition of their house-arrest was that there would be no weapons of any kind in the safe house. So, before every mission, the squad was given their box of equipment and weapons, and they'd suit up while being monitored by Flag and whoever else would accompany them.

Floyd watched Katana suit up, smirking as Digger dragged his box over to her corner. He felt shitty about their conversation, but he didn't have the energy to apologize.

_Telling a widow that his very much alive ex-girlfriend was "ghostlike," not his finest moment_.

Digger had once said it was like a knife fight everytime Harley spoke, but maybe Floyd had taken on that quality since she seemed to barely put two words together. He shook his head at himself, reaching in his box to get the rest of his suit. He had everything on, minus the mask and his wrist guns. He slid his hand into a glove, wincing as the leather connected with his sore hand.

He bit his lip, not wanting Flag to notice his injury. He hadn't been chewed out about it yet, so he assumed Katana had kept it to herself, he silently thanked her.

"That looks bad," Harley's words almost scared him. He was so busy _thinking about her _that he hadn't even noticed she walked over to him.

Floyd glanced at her, she was in a dark red tactical jumpsuit with four white diamonds in the center of her chest. She had knives strapped in thigh holsters, which was a new addition. Her tricked out gun, ever present in its usual holster as well.

He almost did a double take at the "Good Night" bat in her hand. It hadn't made an appearance since Midway, and he was surprised she even had it.

He kicked himself for not responding sooner when he saw the expectant expression on her face.

_She's talking to you, idiot. Say something! _

"Uh, it's nothing," he brushed it off, sliding his hand in the glove. "Got a little frisky with the boxing bag."

Harley nodded, "Ah, it did a real number on you, did it?"

If he didn't know any better, he'd think she looked a little amused.

He tried to keep his smile in check, but he wouldn't have been surprised if Digger would later tell him that he had the stupidest grin on his face. "Well, I put up a good fight," he offered, chuckling a bit.

She nodded looking bemused, "Right."

They stood in silence for a few moments, Floyd noticed she was just watching him strap on his wrist guns and check his rifle.

He felt like she wanted to say something else, but she just watched him, chewing on her lip.

"What is it?" He asked, checking the scope of his gun. He remembered the best way to approach her when they first were getting to know each other was to seem as nonchalant as possible.

She tilted her head, "What do you mean?"

He glanced at her, holstering his spare pistol. "You only chew on your lip when something's on your mind."

Harley narrowed her eyes at him, immediately releasing her button lip from her teeth.

He wanted to laugh, but he knew better. So he just kept working on his weapons, staying quiet until she was ready to speak.

"Just be careful up there," She murmured.

Floyd stopped working on his equipment then, standing up straight to face her head on. "What do you mean?"

Harley glanced around, her bleached locks blowing wildly as the helicopter landed several yards behind them. She leaned to him a bit, not wanting to yell over chopper's landing. "I just have a bad feeling about this, and you'll be the only one without another squad member," she mentioned.

He made an extra effort to pay attention to her words, as she did have an interesting point. He'd be alone, minus the team of government snipers that he hadn't met or even seen yet, which is an abnormality. But this was the first time she had been this close to him in God knows how long.

He took a deep breath, trying _and failing _to ignore the fact that her hair smelt of fresh strawberries. But he had to table this for now, she was coming to him as a concerned teammate, and nothing more.

"Thanks for looking out, I'll stay checked in," he offered, leaning back a bit. He didn't want to push her and invade her space.

She seemed to settle a bit at his response. She took a step back as well, glancing over her shoulder as Flag called them to the helicopter. She nodded to him, giving him a small smile before turning and heading towards the rest of the squad.

He was the last member to make it the helicopter, and he took a seat between Flag and Waylon. Harley was across from him, in between Digger and Katana, much to the Aussie's complaints.

The ride was short, and Flag's rehashing of the plan took up most of the time.

The helicopter would pass through the drop zone for the members of the squad on the ground first, which meant Harley, Flag and Digger would be parachuting into the abandoned park.

"Are you shitting me?" Digger wined. "I've never skydived, I am a ground-dwelling person."

Flag rolled her eyes, adjusting the parachute's straps around her shoulders. "It's gonna be fine, Digger. You have a parachute that does all the work."

Flag turned to the rest of them, still strapped into their seats. "Okay, Waylon and Katana, you'll be meeting up with a small squadron at the edge of the river for the sewers. Make sure you have your maps on you."

"I don't need a map," Waylon muttered, smirking at the squad. They'd be jumping out of the helicopter too.

Floyd was the only one who got out of it, he'd apparently be meeting up with snipers on the roof where the helicopter would land.

Harley tightened the straps across her chest and midsection and started working her hair into a tight braid, ignoring Digger's continued complaints about jumping from the helicopter. "How soon till the drop?" She asked Flag.

Flag leaned over a couple vacation seats, "We got about 90 seconds." He opened a hatch and slid the small door up, air whipping through the cabin.

"Okay, everyone!" He yelled, "Keep your communicators on! Let us know what you find, and if anyone needs back up, keep us updated!"

Floyd nodded, glancing to Harley, who was staring at him, chewing her lip again

He tried to give her a reassuring smile, tapping his ear where his comms device was dangling near. He hadn't engaged it yet.

Harley smiled back at him, pressing her device in her ear, and taking a few steps towards the edge of the open hatch.

"Digger!" She called, "Is your 'chute tight enough?"

He gulped at her, walking towards her to get help with it.

"If you guys fucking think I'm gonna jump out of this helicopter, you've got another thing coming!" He shouted, one hand grasping the edge of the door as Harley tightened his straps.

"You're all good, you ready?" She asked, yelling over the wind.

"For what?" He asked, shrieking as Harley leaned forward, shoving him out of the open hatch and jumping after him.

Waylon cackled at Digger's lingering screams.

Flag shook his head, barely containing his own laughter.

"Be safe!" He called to the three of them, and he jumped.

"If you weren't a literal fuckin' superhuman, I'd smack the shit out of you," Digger grumbled, feebly untangling himself from the opened parachute on the ground.

Harley readjusted her braid, smsiring at him. "I knew you'd never do it alone."

Digger grumbled more to himself, but didn't deny her claim.

Flag shook his head at the two, stashing his and Harley's parachutes and drawing his gun. "Let's focus up, you two." He used his officer voice, but hints of humor were in there.

Harley nodded, falling in line behind Digger and Flag. She figured she'd be quicker to take anyone out that snuck up on them, and neither of them complained.

They walked in silence for a little while, the sun starting to set along the river in the distance, but no one was around yet.

"This place is kinda creepy," Digger muttered, glancing through the fog at the broken down rides, weeds and vines overtaking the cars left abandoned on a go-cart track besides them.

"Quinn, will anybody come to scope out the area before the drop off tonight?" Flag asked over his shoulder, his stance tense.

Harley stopped following them, Flag's lack of preparedness throwing her off. "It depends on the shipments," she muttered, her hands flexing as she gripped her bat and slung it over her shoulders.

Flag made an annoyed grunting sound, throwing a glare over his shoulder at her.

She narrowed her eyes at him, but continued walking behind him. "I'd expect he's got guys here now, the main crew at the docks won't be here till way later though, if he conducts business like he used to."

Flag nodded, pressing his comms, "Lawton, what have you got?"

Harley tilted her head, pressing her hand to her comms as well, wanting to hear Floyd's voice. She didn't know why, but this whole thing made her on edge. She knew they had split up once or twice for missions before, and Floyd's skillset was unique, so sometimes that meant he was off alone. But this just feels different.

_But you're only thinking about him as his teammate. _She reminded herself, shaking off any other feelings.

"_I'm on the southwest rooftop of the ticket center, 45 clicks from Amusement Mile. I've cleared a couple snipers out from the top of Aparo Park Water Tower, but I'm not seeing anything else." _

She let out a breath she didn't know she was holding once she heard his voice.

"Why are at there? You're supposed to be closer to the Dark Carnival." Flag asked, his officer voice kicking on.

Harley and Digger stopped then, glancing at each other.

"_The 'copter landed here, Flag. They said you approved the change," _

Floyd sounded more annoyed than anything else, but Harley felt like an iron band was tightening around her ribs at the confusion.

She looked around slowly, turning the bat in her hands. "Something's not right," she muttered.

"So Barton and the squadron are there, then?" Flag asked, blowing air out of his nose harshly.

"_I don't know about a Barton, Flag. But a squardon's here. Should there be a Barton?" _

Now Floyd sounded more on edge.

Flag groaned, switching his comm link briefly. "Barton, where the fuck are you guys? Lawton was brought to the Southwest Ticket Center, you got guys up there with him?"

Harley and Digger weren't on that comms channel, so she tried listening in.

They walked a few more yards, passing an abandoned mirror maze.

_Beep, beep, beep._

Harley stopped, glancing at Digger and Flag, who were still moving.

"Quinn, our checkpoint is 120 clicks further. Do you see something?" Flag asked over his shoulder, but he didn't stop walking.

Her gaze bounced between her teammates and the blacked out window of the Mirror Maze. _She could've sworn she heard something in there… _

She pressed her comms device, "Floyd, you got eyes on the Mirror Maze?" she remembered his mask has thermal dection.

She waited, looking around towards the ticket center, but she couldn't see anything.

_Beep-beep. Beep-beep. Beep-beep. _

Harley took a few more steps towards the source of the sound. She pressed her comms device again, "Floyd, you there?"

_Beep-beep-beep. Beep-beep-beep. _

She stopped short, hearing static from Floyd's end.

"Lawton? Where the fuck are you?" she heard Digger ask from behind her.

"Quinn, what is it?" Flag hissed, walking up behind her.

Harley shushed both of them. "Do you hear that?"

_Beep-beep. Beep. Beep-beep. _

She peaked through the window, and she saw it.

"Get down," she said, slowly backing up.

"What?" Flag asked, trying to step around her.

Harley backed up quickly, grabbing Flag's arm and jerking him back towards Digger, who hadn't strayed from the main path.

"Get down!" She shoved Flag behind an old snack bar, feeling the blast's heat against her side.

The blast blew the stand over, pieces of the ceiling falling on them. Harley climbed on top of Flag, trying to shield him from most of the debris. It was an old stand, most of the wood had been rotted out from the rain, so it wasn't that painful, but the wind was knocked out of her.

"Jesus Christ," Flag weezed, rolling over.

Harley pushed herself up into a sitting position, coughing up some soot as she did so.

Digger came running up, pushing some debris out of their way. "Are you guys okay?"

Harley climbed out of the broken down stand, offering Flag her hand. "I told you something wasn't right."

Flag shot her a look, but took her hand anyway. "Are you hurt?" He asked her, his eyes scanning her over.

"Am _I _hurt?" She scoffed, "Are _you_?"

Flag stretched a bit, shaking his head. "Think it was one of Luthor's?"

Harley glanced at the little fires surrounding where the bomb had been. "Yeah, he's the only one who uses these docks now," with the unspoken _since J is dead. _

"Hey Lawton!" Digger yelled into his comms, "Thanks for the fucking warning!"

_More static._

Flag stopped then, glancing towards Floyd's location but the three of them knew they wouldn't be able to see him anyway.

"Katana, Jones…" Flag started, trying to conceal his worry. "You guys heard from Lawton?"

Harley pressed her comms device, waiting for their reply.

"_No, not since when we left for the drop point. Has he not checked in?" _

Katana's voice sounded a little concerned as well. This wasn't like him.

"We need to keep moving," she heard herself say. "If his crew didn't know we were here, Lex's gonna know for sure now."

Digger nodded, following Harley at her heels. Flag took up the rear, holding his gun at the ready.

"_Flag, Flag!" _Harley turned her head at the noise, but kept moving. She was starting to wonder if she had enhanced hearing, she knew the unfamiliar voice was coming from Flag's comm link.

Flag looked at her, raising an eyebrow. "Barton? Did you find Lawton?"

Harley led them to another run-down building, the old Haunted Mansion. She and J had used it to store weapons back before she went to Belle Reve. She figured they hadn't been moved, the only other person who knew abut them was Jon-

"_Flag, we made it to Lawton's location, but there's no one here." _Barton's report stopped Harley in her tracks.

"What? What?" Digger asked, sounding jumpy.

"Flag..." Harley started, narrowing her eyes at the colonel.

Flag's face seem to etch with concern. "What's the scene up there, Barton?"

"_Southwest rooftop has been compromised, is what it's looking like." _

Harley's leg spread apart, she started calculating how fast she could get from their position to Floyd's last known one. Could she get there before Flag tripped the bomb in her neck? Would he let her go?

"What?" Digger asked, glancing between Flag and Harley.

"And Lawton?" Flag asked, scrubbing his hand over his face.

Harley held her breath, running her hand down the side of her legs until she felt her knife nestled in it's holster on her thigh.

There was some crackling through the comm link.

"_Missing in action." _

Before anyone could react, gunfire reigned on the three teammates.


	9. It's You, Harley

A bright, light shining in his eyes woke him. The blinding light causing his splitting headache to throb even more.

"Shit…" he murmured, trying to bring his hand up over his eyes before opening them. He stiffened, realizing his arms were restrained at his sides. He tried kicking out his legs, but they were restrained as well.

His eyes shot open, it took them a moment to adjust the light. He looked around frantically, trying to find anything in this dark room that would tell him where he is. He struggled against his bonds, the stainless steel cuffs fused to the metal table he was strapped to.

His wrist guns were gone, his boots and gloves removed. _What the Hell happened? _He thought, trying to remember how he got here.

_But where was he..._

"Flag?" he called, hoping that he was somehow in a safe house. He figured this was all false hope. "Harley?" he tried again, hoping that wherever he was, Harley was far from this place.

A door opened, and Floyd tensed, feeling exposed without any of his weapons.

"Well, well, Floyd Lawton," Lex Luthor's twerty little voice called from his right.

Floyd squinted, the blinding lamp shining in his face made it hard to see towards the room's dark perimeter. He had heard a door open, but where?

"Lex," Floyd responded, narrowing his eyes as the business made came into view.

He was a bit skinnier than Floyd remembered, his face covered by a well trimmed beard, his once-bald head covered by darker waves, almost touching his ears. His skin looked a little tanned too. _J must've taken Lex to a private island after the prison break_, Floyd guessed.

"I had it on pretty good authority that you were dead, so imagine my surprise when the world's best marksman was spotted in a theme park, shooting my best guys." Lex scratched the top of his head, as if he was puzzled by the situation.

"And I had it on pretty good authority you were in prison, but here you are," Floyd countered, raising an eyebrow.

Lex smirked at him. "Seems like a lot of things have changed since we last saw each other. But I owe my freedom to The Joker. You know J, right? I heard you two have some things in common," he laughed.

Floyd barred his teeth, "If you even fucking think of laying a hand on -"

Lex put up his hand, "Oh relax, Lawton. I don't have your little girlfriend, I don't need her just yet. She's working perfectly."

Floyd tilted his head, "What's that supposed to mean?"

Lex sent his prisoner a condescending smile, he turned to the side slightly, showing Floyd a screen behind him. He used a remote, clicking the screen to life.

Floyd's eyes widened when he was shown scans of Harley, each page focusing on a different portion of her body. Her modifications enlarged on each scan, small descriptions written on each page as well.

Lex chuckled at his expression. "What? You thought _Mistah J _had the resources to develop those mods? How dumb are you, Lawton?"

"You enhanced her?" Floyd asked, still confused.

"Well," Lex mumbled, running a hand through his hair. "Quinn wasn't _my first choice_, but J was kind enough to offer a test subject. None of my research indicated anyone could survive the enhancement surgeries."

"You ruined her life," Floyd growled, the images ahead of him, morphing into a video stream. It was footage from Harley's surgeries.

Lex snorted at him, "_I ruined her life?_ She has millions of dollars worth of equipment embedded inside her, and she's basically indestructible, I _made Harley Quinn._"

Floyd snarled at him, "She's not something for you lot to fuck with."

Lex rolled his eyes, "I liked you better when you just took my money and killed whoever I wanted. But, if you're so stuck in your convictions, I'll show you just how _pathetic _she was before my equipment." He smirked, tapping a button on his tablet, rewinding the footage.

_Two of the Joker's goons dragged her in. She was still in the same work out clothes she was taken from their apartment in. Her face looked battered, her body basically limp. _

_J entered the room, in a bedazzled lab coat draped over his shoulders, with Lex in tow. _

_Harley's head snapped up at the sight of J, and she started clawing at one of the goons when he got closer. "Please!" She shouted, feebly trying to move away. Her other arm hung limp at her side, her shoulder looked completely popped out of place. "Help me! Someone!" She shouted, tears streaming down her face as the goons dragged her closer to the center of the room, closer to the Joker. _

"_You want to use your girlfriend as a test subject?" Lex asked, laughing humorlessly. "She looks half dead already, J." _

_J ignored him, skipping up to Harley and gripping her face in his hand. "Come on, Princess! We're gonna fix you right up." _

_Harley narrowed her eyes and spat in his face. A mixture of blood and spittle running down the Joker's face. _

_The Joker shook his head, making a "tsk, tsk, tsk" sound at Harley, before stepping back, nodding to his goons. _

_They gripped her harshly, throwing her down on a metal table, similar to the one Floyd was strapped in now. _

_Lex pulled the Joker aside. They were out of view of the camera, but their voices were included. _

"_I said we needed a healthy test subject, J." Lex admonished, sounding annoyed. "I didn't intend to funnel millions of dollars into you fixing your broken toy just so you can break it some more. I thought it would be you." _

_The Joker laughed at Lex. "You said it yourself you didn't know if this would kill me or not, Lexie!" The Joker cackled. "This way, if she lives, we know it's less risky for the likes of us." _

_Lex sighed, "And if she dies, which she likely will at this state, I've wasted my time and money." _

"_No, no no!" J replied. "If she's dead, I drop her outside of little ole' Deadshot's house, and you get a hitman for hire for the next test!" _

"_Floyd Lawton? I heard he was locked up." _

"_Oh, no no. He and my Harley got sprung, I found them living together in sin! Imagine how funny that was! What a joke my Cupcake pulled on me." The Joker laughed. _

"_If she lives, J," Lex continued, "She's going to want to get back to Lawton then." _

"_I took care of that already, but I do need one last, tinsey little favor from you, Lexie." _

"_I won't ask about that, what's the favor?" _

"_I wiped her pesky little memories of that Hotshot, but I don't imagine she'll be very happy with us if she survives this regardless. Got anything to make her a little more...what's the word?" J asked, sounding confused. _

"_Compliant?" Lex asked, sounding uninterested in the Joker's dilemma. "Yeah, I can handle that."_

"_I was going to say loving, but excellent!" _

_The Joker and Lex walked back into view, Harley was sedated at this point, her body lying limp on the table. _

"_Gentlemen," Lex started, looking down at a tablet in his hands. "Let's begin." _

The screen switched off, back to more scans and descriptions of Harley's mods. Footage of her fighting in a gym, like she was training with some of the Joker's goons, showed next.

"See?" Lex asked, "I _saved _her."

Floyd shook his head, "You fuckin' ruined her," he spat, incredulous.

Lex rolled his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You men in Gotham are all the same," he muttered, switching the screen to sped up footage of Harley's wounds healing. This was all documented before the squad got her back, Floyd figured. "Such _drama _when it comes to a pretty face. I didn't get it before, but now, seeing her in all this glory, I get it. Harley Quinn is beautiful, and I _made her that way._"

"If you're so proud of your latest creation, why'd you let her escape with us then? Why let her work for someone that ain't you, huh?" Floyd asked, hoping to get at least some semblance of a plan from Lex.

He turned to Floyd, smiling. "Because, Lawton. J, God rest his soul, promised me something even better than a little, broken doll." Lex pressed another button, files from each member of the squad appearing on screen.

He watched the photos flip through Waylon's file, then Digger, Katana's, even June Moon, Flag and Chato too.

"An entire squad of some of the worst of the worst, starting with the world's best marksman." Lex smirked, tapping another button, so Floyd's file appeared on the screen and stayed.

Floyd's eyes widened in realization. "No," he started, turning his head violently in different directions when he heard doors opening on both sides, people in lab coats ran in, pulling different carts of surgical equipment, and what looked like enhancements. "You're never going to get away with this, Lex. They know I'm gone by now! They're going to find me!"

Lex laughed at that, "That's what I'm counting on. Let your little girlfriend come, Lawton." He picked up a metal collar, and a small hard drive, much like the one Frost had removed from Harley months ago. "I have a surprise for dearest Harley as well."

"No, no!" Floyd shouted, hoping anyone else could hear him.

He felt a pinprick in his arm, then it all went dark.

"Are you kidding me!" Digger yelled over the gunfire, pushing even deeper into the run-down haunted mansion. He chucked one of his boomerangs over his shoulder, not watching it to know it'd come back to him.

Harley was ahead of him, kicking old doors open, leading them through the attraction's dark maze.

"This way!" She called over her shoulder, remembering that Mistah J had hid a small arsenal hidden in one of the maintenance rooms. It was by a trap door that lead to tunnels underneath the park.

Flag took up the rear, shooting back at Luthor's goons as they followed them into the haunted house. Harley leading them through the twists and turns of the maze was definitely an advantage, since Luthor already had the element of surprise.

Harley opened the trap door, stepping aside and hitting the wall next to her, her gun drawn and ready for the rest of Lex's goons. They really hadn't gotten many of them down, she, Digger and Flag were more focused on escaping than actually killing them.

"I knew this was a bad fucking idea, Quinn!" Digger yelled as he ran up, catching his boomerang just to throw it back out threw a blown hole in the side of the wall again. He smirked as it collided with two men, knocking them down before coming back to him.

After a few moments, Flag bounded around the corner, little bits of blood spatter on her face and parts of his tactical suit.

"Come on!" Harley yelled, shooting

"They're coming!" he yelled back, skidding to a stop next to her, adjusting his stance for a fight.

Harley drew her revolver, running across the makeshift study and jumping over the couch.

"What are you-" Flag started, "Quinn! We don't have time for this!"

She stopped in front of a cabinet on the fake bookshelf, opening the doors tor reveal an arsenal of guns, grenades and other weapons.

She grabbed a bunch of grenades. Tossing three across the room to Flag.

"The paintings have gaps in them, you should be able to toss some out there," She called over her shoulder, grabbing a definitely homemade device and what looked to Flag like some trip wire.

"So we're gonna blow the place," Digger muttered sarcastically, hooking a couple extra hand grenades on his belt. "Just great."

"These things are gonna blow quick, so we have to move as soon as a single pin is pulled," Flag said, slumping against the wall by the gaps, watching Harley set up the trip wire. "Quinn, will that device even work?"

Harley looked up at him, an unsure smile working it's way through her features. "I dunno. J never perfected these."

"Christ," Digger muttered, "We are all gonna die."

Harley heard the goons shooting their way through the room right before theirs.

"We need to go, now!" She shouted, arming the device and grabbing Digger's arm, shoving him towards the trap door.

Flag nodded, pulling pin after pin and tossing three grenades through the gaps in the wall. He ran for the trap door, jumping down after Digger.

Harley was the last in, pulling the metal door shut on top of them and running to catch up with the boys.

The explosion shook the dimly lit tunnel, dirt falling down on top of them, but not enough to collapse it.

"That'll hold 'em off," Harley muttered, leaning against the tunnels wall while Digger and Flag caught their breath.

"That was fuckin' crazy," Digger said between dry-heaves. "How'd they know where we'd be?"

"It was definitely an ambush," Flag muttered, pressing his comm link. "Katana, come in."

Harley and Digger pressed theirs as well, but she wasn't as interested in hearing from Katana.

"Floyd?" She tried again, hoping it was all a misunderstanding, and he was on some rooftop somewhere with Flag's old squadron, wondering where the three of them were.

There was just more static on her end.

"We need to keep moving," Flag said, starting to walk ahead. "Get above ground, so we can make contact."

Harley nodded, taking a couple steps forward, but stopping short.

Digger stopped to, standing beside her. He looked puzzled.

Flag looked over his shoulder at her. "Quinn, come on. You gotta lead us out of here," his officer voice coming out again.

"What're the shipments, Flag?" She asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

Flag tilted his head at her, looking irritated that she even asked. "You already figured out I don't know," he replied.

Digger shook his head, "I agree with Craziness over here," he jutted his thumb towards Harley. "Waller might've kept you in the dark for our little briefing, but there is no way she'd keep you in the dark now. When we're up to our asses in even worse guys than us."

Flag made a "tck" sound, standing there with his hands on his hips, likely considering whether or not to engage with them.

After a few, tense beats of quiet, He relented.

"It's you," Flag said, jutting his chin towards Harley.

"Me?" She asked, pointing to herself.

Flag palmed his face, "Waller had to file a report when you were taken by the Joker six months ago. She had to go over any injuries you might've faced, changes to your physical health, and that sorta thing."

Harley narrowed her eyes, "She wants more modifications."

Digger glanced between Harley and Flag, his eyes widening. "Oh, hell no, you cockwipe!" He spat, "You're going to do to us what J did to her?"

"No!" Flag shook his head. "The plan isn't to enhance anyone else in Task Force X."

"Then what's the plan, Flag?" Harley asked, tilting her head at him in disbelief.

Flag breathed heavily through his nose. "Lex Luthor is paying engineers to create these enhancements. Some agents tracked his second shipment to the docks at the amusement park, and we were sent out to intercept it. No one in the government wants this getting out, trust me. And I wouldn't let it happen to any of the squad, even if that was her plan."

Digger scoffed, "Like you have any pull? Waller already has bombs in our necks, what's to stop her from a little chip in our brain telling us where to eat, sleep and shit too?"

Flag looked to Harley, "You've gotta believe me, Quinn. That's not what this is."

Harley didn't respond, she just stood there, completely rigid. She gently rubbed two fingers against the scar tissue on the back of her neck, where J's chip had been implanted.

"Quinn?" Digger asked, hesitant to touch her.

"Harley?" Flag asked, taking a step forward.

"Lex paid for all this?" She asked after a moment, her face thoughtful.

Flag nodded, "That's where we traced some of the modifications from, once we got your initial scans back."

"So, this Luthor guy just, what? Gave the equipment to the Joker with no strings attached?" Digger asked, confused.

Harley shook her head absentmindedly, "No, Lex and Mistah J had all kinds of business, but never any favors. If Lex scratched J's back, it was a two way street."

Flag nodded, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Do you remember the Joker ever talking about payment going out around the time he took you, Quinn?"

Harley shook her head again, "I don't even remember being taken. I just woke up one day, and I was back dancing in his club."

Digger, "No offense, Love. But what would your exboyfriend have that Luthor wouldn't already have access to anyways? I get that J was living big, but no one's richer than Luthor here seems to be the biggest spender in the city."

"That's what we could never figure out either," Flag agreed, looking to Harley.

Harley took a deep breath, beginning to pace the short distance between the two walls of the tunnel. _Think, you idiot. Think… _

She screwed her eyes shut, trying to focus on anything she could remember that could help them now.

_An old, dingy room. A potent chemical smell. A medical table. Restrains holding her in place on it. J talking to Lex in the corner, trying to stay hush-hush. _

"_That way, if she dies, you get a hitman for hire for the next test!" _A little piece of J's memory came to her mind.

"Information," Harley breathed, opening her eyes.

"Come again?" Digger asked, turning to look at her head on.

"You're saying…" Flag pressed.

Her eyes snapped up to Flag's. "We need to find Floyd, now."


	10. More or Less

"I've alerted Waller to the situation, we need to wait for her direction," Flag commanded.

Harley ignored him, continuing to lead them out of the tunnels. She was moving with such a purpose that Digger was almost impressed at Flag's balls to attempt to stop her.

"Waller doesn't give a fuck if he lives or dies," Harley grumbled, rounding another corner in the tunnel quickly. Before either man could warn her, one of Lex's goons came running towards them, knife in hand. Harley rolled her eyes, pulling out her revolver and putting a round in his skull without a second glance.

Flag and Digger stalked past him, Flag considered stopping to make sure the guy she just killed did in fact work for Luthor, but he figured it was a safe bet, since these tunnels are almost exclusively used to move his products. Plus, it's not like he expects Harley to grieve over the mistake of killing an innocent while Floyd was still missing.

"Quinn, slow down and regroup. We still have a mission," Flag started, his commander voice failing him a bit. Harley and Digger didn't have to search far to notice he wasn't as on board with this idea to just sit around and wait.

"Fine, you can sit here and wait like the Wall's bitch, Flag." Harley barked as she continued, rounding another corner and leading them towards the pale moonlight shining at the end of the tunnel. This path should lead them far from the park and into Gotham's Meatpacking District. "I'm going after Floyd," she said, not even looking behind her.

"Yeah, bomb in our necks or not, Mate," Digger started, sounding almost awkward at the confrontation. "Leaving Floyd to die sounds a little too villainous for my liking." He scratched the back of his head, "I think I'll try my luck with Supersoldier Barbie here," he jutted his thumb ahead of them towards Harley, and began to pick up his pace.

"Digger! Quinn!" Flag called, not wanting to pull rank but willing to in this case. "If she wants us to still go after Lex's shipment, and we abandon the mission to get Lawton, she could just take him out anyway. He's got a kid we should think of."

Harley stopped then, turning to face Flag. "Yeah, and what are we gonna tell Zoe when Lex kills Floyd? Or worse, huh?" She rolled her eyes, "We are wasting time even debating this." She started walking again.

"Wait," Digger muttered, grabbing Harley's wrist to stop her. "What if we were meant to think the mods were being delivered to the park?"

Harley finally stopped and focused on the two men. "To get Floyd?"

Digger nodded, "If you're right Harls, and your ex traded info on the squad to get your enhancements from Lex, then wouldn't it be the perfect plan to set up a fake delivery to draw us all out to his own digs in Gotham? Out of most of our comfort zones? And if you, Waylon, and Lawton have worked for him before, he knows where your skills lie, so he'd know Lawton would likely be on his own."

"Easier to intercept," Flag finished, running a hand over his face.

Harley glanced between the two of them, bouncing on the balls of her feet. "We can't just sit here and wait until Waller finds him, if she's even doing that."

Flag stepped forward, considering putting a hand on Harley's shoulder, but opting against it. "Do you remember where they held you before you got your enhancements?"

Harley took a deep breath, screwing her eyes shut.

"_You always know where I am, Baby…" J's voice rang in the back of her mind. _

She shook her head at the voice, trying to place when Mistah J said this to her.

"_This was always gonna end where it began, Harleen," his voice continued. _

She opened her eyes, her gaze bouncing between a very concerned looking Flag and Digger.

"I know where Floyd is," she grunted, walking ahead of them out of the tunnel.

**.-.-.**

Waylon and Katana had made it through the sewers, with virtually no problems. There were points where the group thought they had heard something, but there was no sign that anyone from Lex's crew had been there within the last few days, which was _alarming_, if anyone bothered to ask either of them.

"Flag?" Katana tried again, her comm link just producing static once more.

Waylon rolled his eyes, "Why the Hell is everyone?" he muttered, leading the group.

After a few beats of silence, Digger's voice broke through the regular static of the comm links.

"Guys, we have a _big fucking problem._"

Katana and Waylon glanced at each other.

"What's up, Boom?" Waylon asked after a beat.

"This was a set up, Lex has Lawton," Flag replied. "We need to regroup and find him. Meet us outside of Ace Chemicals."

Katana looked to Waylon, "You can get us there?"

Waylon nodded towards an upcoming right, throwing his hood back up as they walked.

**.-.-.**

Harley led them through the dark and damp alleyways of Gotham, not slowing down for anything.

If anyone even looked at her differently, she shoved them back into dumpsters and pushed on.

She led them to an area behind an industrial park, where most of the businesses' dumpsters were located.

"There's a service road right here, and Ace is up that way," Harley nodded down the road, squatting next to Flag as he consulted a map on his phone.

"Waylon and Katana should be about 100 yards behind us," Flag muttered, looking back for a moment. Probably in the direction they were approaching from, Harley figured.

"You're sure Lawton's in there?" he asked Harley.

She nodded quickly, not looking away from the road to Ace Chemicals. She couldn't even remember the last time she'd been here before she got the enhancements, _if she even had the mods placed in there. _She shook her head at the doubt creeping into her mind. _Floyd is in there, he has to be._

She could hear Waylon and Katana as they approached, she barely spared them a glance.

"Well you guys look spotless," Digger jokes, nudging Flag. "I told you that splitting up was a bad idea."

Digger's bad joke fell flat, and the group stood together in a tense silence under the cover of Gotham's night.

"What's the plan?" Katana asked, "Floyd's in there?" she jutted the handle of her sword in the direction of Harley's gaze.

"He should be," Flag said, sparing Harley a quick glance.

"How do we get in, Harls?" Waylon asked, moving forward a bit, squatting next to her.

Her eyes bounced between Waylon and the road for a few, silent moments. Her eyes landed briefly on an idling supply track. She remembered that Mistah J used to pick off drivers that went down the service road by mistake, or pulled off to nap or take a piss sometimes.

Waylon watched her lean forward a bit, her eyes zeroing in on the idling truck.

"Waller's sent along the blueprints to the building," Flag mentioned, pulling them up on his phone.

"They'll probably have people out front to stand guard," Katana thought aloud. "If Luthor's in there, then he knows we're coming."

"No…" Harley murmured, not looking at anyone in the squad. Waylon's eyes snapped from Katana to the former clown beside him. No one else seemed to hear her.

"Right," Digger added, "So we'll need a secret entrance."

Harley looked over her shoulder quickly, weighing her options. The three of them were so engrossed in Flag's map, would they _even notice_ if she slipped away? All she really had to do was get past Flag, he's the one with the controls to her bomb.

"What are you thinking, Quinn?" Waylon whispered, glancing between her and the truck.

"I think you already know," she muttered, throwing a glance over her shoulder one more time before standing. She looked at Waylon, handing him her bat. "Tell them to be ready for the signal," she said.

"Right," Waylon said, taking her bat. "What's your signal?" he asked, tilting his head at her.

She smirked at him, "I trust you'll figure it out." She slinked out of the alley into the alley, heading for the truck.

Harley stayed in the dark as she covered the few hundred yards toward the truck.

The driver was sitting in the driver's seat, his suit too nice for a normal delivery truck. She tilted his head. _Must be one of Lex's guys… _

Without hesitating, Harley ripped the door open, grabbing the driver by the collar of his shirt before he could react, and dragging him out to the ground.

"Hey! Christ, you bitch!" He hissed at her, clawing at her arms.

Harley rolled her eyes at his struggling, "That ain't gonna help, Handsome," she muttered with a toothy smile, kicking his side hard enough to give him a few broken ribs. "_Your boss made sure of that._"

The driver's eyes widened as he yelped.

"Where is Lex?" She asked, bending down to press the barrel of her revolver to his forehead.

The driver raised his hands as best he could, "Top floor, in the old offices. He's _waiting for you_," his voice morphed into throaty chuckles. "You're so _fucked!_" he said, his spit landing on Harley's cheek.

She rolled her eyes, "Enough with the crazies," she muttered, hitting him with the but of her, knocking him out. She would've shot him, but if Flag hadn't noticed she'd slipped away by now, a gunshot would definitely tip him off.

Without looking back, Harley sprinted for the door of the truck, hopping in and putting it in gear. She glanced over her shoulder, through the window into the large cabin of the truck. There were several sealed off crates. She wondered if the crates held modifications for Floyd, the rest of the squad, and god knows who else. She noticed a few gasoline canisters and smiled.

"Lexie, here I come!" she sang, slamming her foot into the gas and flooring the truck towards ACE Chemicals.

**.-.-.**

Lex paced the floor of the offices, growing impatient with his team of doctors. They weren't seeing the bigger picture.

"Sir, we need to start now, or we'll have to double up on his sedatives, which could leave him in a medically induced coma," one doctor pleaded with him.

Lex shook his head violently, chucking to himself as he ran his thumb over a magnetic collar in his palm. _Harley should be coming_…

"We can't start just yet," he muttered, annoyed that he has to explain this again. "I promised a friend that Harley Quinn would be here to see Deadshot's surgery."

"What friend? The Joker?" Another doctor pressed. "Sir, he's dead. It's not like he'd _ever know_ if you let us start..."

Lex rolled his eyes, shooting the doctor in the head from across the room. "I keep all my promises," Lex stated as he looked to the remaining three doctors in the room. "Want to keep asking questions?"

The doctors quickly nodded and prepared to sedate Floyd again.

"Wait," Lex held up his hand, "Wake him up now."

"You're sure?" One doctor asked, raising his eyebrows through his mask.

Lex nodded, "He should see us take the rest of his little group."

"Sir," one of his goons by the door spoke up. "How can you be sure that Task Force X wouldn't have just been instructed to cut their losses with Deadshot?"

Lex shook his head, "Quinn's never one to leave her men behind. I imagine she rallied the rest of them, if they even needed convincing."

He walked over to an old desk in the center of the room, pouring himself a scotch he brought from his safe house. As he took a sip, a blast rocked the floor beneath their feet. Some dust fell from the ceiling, and alarms from down the hall began to sound, indicating a security breach.

Lex smiled, "Come on, Quinzel." He glanced at his newest device for Harley. "_We've been waiting for you._"

**.-.-.**

"Quinn, what the fuck were you thinking?" Flag bellowed in her face once he caught up to her. He figured out her little plan about ten seconds to late. Once he rounded the corner with the rest of the squad, Quinn was already jumping out of the still-speeding truck, narrowly avoiding death-by-explosion herself. "You just told _everyone in there _that we're coming for them! That is, if you didn't accidentally kill everyone inside just now."

Harley smirked at him, trying to keep her eyes from wandering behind Flag, where Waylon and Digger were standing. Neither of them were doing much to contain their shit-eating grins. Katana looked stoic as usual, but her eyes wandered down to Harley's feet, where one of her boots had been sacrificed to hold the gas pedal in place. Harley could've sworn Katana looked _amused _when she noticed.

"Relax," Harley muttered, stepping around Flag to take her bat back from Waylon. "I got intel that Lex and Floyd are on the top floor."

Flag looked like he might blow a gasket, if that was something that decorated soldiers were allowed to do. So Waylon and Digger decided to stand between them, putting human barriers between Flag's irritation and Harley.

Katana was the first one to speak, "We should keep moving."

Everyone silently agreed after a few, tense seconds. Harley led the way, happily swinging her bat into the skulls of anyone that came out looking for a fight.

Flag followed behind her, shooting everyone above them as they worked their way up the stairwell. He had Waylon, Digger, and Katana peel off on the three floors leading up to the top floor, wanting them to sweep the areas for any stragglers.

"You sure it's up here?" He asked once they reached the last few stairs, a rusted metal door was the only thing between them and Floyd, if Harley was right.

"That's what the nice truck driver said," Harley replied with a shrug. Flag wanted to roll his eyes at how cavalier she was being, but he knew better. She looked like someone had wound up their clockwork toy too far, and the springs were all jammed, waiting to fly apart in every direction. So, he pressed his lips together and quickly reloaded, on the off chance they'd be met with an entire crew.

_Harley pretty much took out Lex's crew with that trucking stunt, _Flag thought, forbidding himself to be impressed.

Harley kicked open the door, the metal screeching a bit as it fell off its hinges.

The room was dark for a moment, Flag switched on the flashlight on his scope as he followed Harley in.

"Quinzel! How nice of you to join us," Lex's voice seemed almost annoyed. Like they were late to a party he had thrown for them.

Harley and Flag stopped just inside the room, almost freezing once they saw Floyd a few feet behind Lex.

His shots and gloves were gone, a gash across his temple was still bleeding pretty steadily, and he was strapped onto a metal table. His clothes were ripped, and he was barely conscious, attached to an IV that was likely pumping him with the same drugs that J and Lex gave Harley before her enhancements.

"Lex, I came to thank you for all my jewelry!" Harley cooed, forcing herself not to react to Floyd's state. "If I had known it was you and not my Puddin, I would've sent a thank you note a long time ago." Harley stepped forward, lowering her bat slightly, but her fighting stance remained apparent.

Lex put a hand up to her, "That's far enough, Gorgeous." He nodded behind him, and a guard held a pistol to Floyd's temple.

"Harley…" Floyd's voice was weak, but it was there. _He was still alive. _

Harley forced herself not to react. _Don't look at him, don't look at him. _She kept her eyes locked on Lex's face, grinning at him.

"Lexie," she started, silently calculating how fast she could get across the room to snap that goon's neck. "I feel like we've reached a sort of impasse," she allowed herself a quick look at Floyd. She felt an iron band tightening around her ribs, but forced herself to recover as quickly as possible. "And the way my friend and I see it -" she nodded to Flag, still lingering behind her, his gun at the ready. "We have two choices."

"Oh yeah?" Lex asked, sipping his scotch. "What are those?"

"You give us Deadshot. You can go back to performing seances to communicate with my dearly departed Puddin, and we'll get out of your hair."

Lex raised an eyebrow, "Oh? I figured you were here to get your new boyfriend. I'd never tell J this, but Floyd Lawton? You traded up, Quinn," he winked.

Harley shook her head, "Oh you know Mistah J, always gettin' jealous over nothing, Saving Deashot's life is more of a professional courtesy."

Lex nodded, "I actually am interested in your new work, Gorgeous." His eyes found Flag, "I take it, this is your handler?"

Flag pointed his gun at Lex, stepping up beside Harley, "Pleased to meet you, I am option two."

The goon behind Lex cocked his gun, a reminder of how close they were to losing Floyd.

Harley pointed to Flag, "See, Lex, if we have to _take Deadshot back_, then you'll have to kill us, or you'll go to this shitty prison down south. And, handsome, I know you don't want to go back to prison, and _thanks to you,_ I can't die." She smirked, tilting her head at him.

Lex stood perfectly still for a moment, almost like he was weighing his options. Finally, he laughed. "I always liked you Quinn. You're funnier than J was," he tipped her drink to her. "Boys," he called. Instantly, more goons came in through another door across the room. "Round those two up, I'm tired of catching up."

Harley shook her head, "Oh Lex, I hope you look good in orange." She bared her teeth, pulling out her revolver and shooting the goon closest to Floyd first.

Flag stepped back, putting a few rounds in the nearest goons as they closed in. Eventually, he and Harley were back-to-back. "I'll hold them off," she shouted, barely flinching at a bullet that grazed her forearm as she threw a knife. "Get him out of here!" she hissed, almost like a command.

Flag wanted to argue, but it made the most sense. She'd last a lot longer, with all these mods. He knew Floyd would hate him if he left Harley there to die, but Harley would likely murder him if he stayed and let Floyd die on that table.

She pushed forward, bringing down goons left and right with her bat. Flag followed, breaking off when he noticed a hole in the group and heading for Floyd.

Before Flag even thought to radio the rest of the squad for backup, Katana and Waylon broke through the crew, taking most of them out from behind. Flag saw Digger cutting through Floyd's bonds, practically catching him as he fell from the table once he was free.

"We need to get out of here," Digger called, working hard to get Floyd on his feet.

Katana ran forward, helping Digger carry Floyd's deadweight back towards the stairwell. "We need to get out of her now," Katana said as they passed Flag and Waylon.

Flag and Waylon looked around, noticing Harley was gone again. So was Lex.

"Jesus Christ…" Flag groaned, heading towards the line of bodies that lead them to an open door, where Lex probably tried to escape.

"You think she killed him?" Waylon asked, his voice deadly even.

"I think it goes either way," Flag muttered, reloading his gun again - just in case - as they walked through the open door. It was a short, open hallway that led to a balcony over full vats of chemicals.

Waylon put a hand out, stopping Flag when he caught sight of Harley. She was stalking back towards them, splatters of blood all over her face, her hair tousled, completely out of her ponytail. Her bat was gone, replaced by an unconscious Lex Luthor, being dragged behind her by a metal, almost magnetic-looking collar.

She dropped Lex at Flag's feet. "This is for you," she said, narrowing her eyes at her two teammates. "Floyd?" She asked.

Waylon nodded to her with a small smile as he bent down and threw Lex over his shoulder.

"Katana and Digger got him out," Flag said, radioing for a helicopter as they walked.

They all cleared the building just as it blew up, blue and green flames rising into the dark sky above Gotham.

"We just released so much toxic waste into our air," Digger wrinkled his nose as he watched the flames rise.

Harley ignored him, relieving him and Katana and taking most of Floyd's weight. She wrapped an arm around his waist and set him down against the side of a building, a safe distance from the fire.

"Floyd?" She pressed, feeling for a pulse.

Her hair began blowing wildly, indicating that the helicopter was landing.

"Harls?" Floyd's voice was raspier, but he fought and opened his eyes a bit, blinking slowly at her.

Harley breathed a sigh of relief she forgot she was holding during that fight. "Yeah, it's me." She felt like a fool for smiling as much as she was, but _Floyd was alive without any mods. _

"I'm sorry, Harley…" he breathed.

Harley narrowed her eyes, lifting her hand and gently scrubbing dried blood from the side of his cheek. "It's okay, Floyd. It's all okay now."

He feebly leaned into her touch, his eyes fluttering a bit. He opened his mouth to speak, but medics rushed over and separated them before he could say anything else. They lifted him onto a gurney and moved him to the helicopter. Harley bit back the instinct to fight them, turning to see Waller and Flag standing by the helicopter.

Waller nodded to her, her mouth in a thin line. Harley narrowed her eyes, assuming that was the closest thing to approval she'd ever get from their fuckin' dictator.

Harley hovered while they checked out Floyd on the helicopter, eventually sitting beside Flag and strapping her seatbelt in.

"You did great today, by the way," Flag commented casually, looking at her from the corner of his eye.

Harley nodded, her gaze not leaving Floyd's unconscious body. She watched his chest rise and fall a few times before thinking of a response. "We're all back in one piece," she muttered.

Flag nodded as well, "More or less." He looked thoughtful for a moment and turned to look at her. "Did Lex surrender?"

Harley looked out of the helicopter's door as it closed. She caught a brief glimpse of soldiers loading a cuffed Lex Luthor into the back of a prisoner van.

"More or less," she mumbled.


	11. He Likes Cappuccinos

It had been two days since the mission with Lex, and Floyd had been under the watchful eye of some of the country's best (and most easily swayed by money and military-grade intimidation to keep quiet) doctors. Lex ordered heavy sedation on Floyd in anticipation for the enhancement surgery. That, coupled with the pretty intense head wound he suffered before his capture led to a significant trauma for Floyd.

Harley had spent almost every moment at Floyd's bedside, she wasn't even sure where this medical center was located. It was definitely military-based, it practically screamed "extension of the American military," but not which branch.

On the second night, doctors agreed that Floyd needed brain surgery, something about internal bleeding compromising his appendix. It was the best case scenario, really. All of them had been worried about his brain, but Deadshot was gonna be just fine, according to the doctors.

While he was in surgery, Flag finally convinced her to take a shower and change out of her dirty, torn squad gear.

"You look disgusting, Quinn," Flag teased.

She ran a hand through her greasy hair, rolling her eyes. "You're not much in the way of pep talks. You know that, right?" she muttered, throwing an unimpressed look over her shoulder.

Flag rolled his eyes, "Your suit's all torn up, you still got some soot on you, and I can literally count the knots in your hair," he listed these things on his fingers, as if he was verbally accounting for a grocery list.

"Your point?" Harley asked, dispassionate.

"My point is, if I was in the hospital, and I woke up to June lookin' the way you do right now, it wouldn't make me feel better."

Harley looked away, her gaze fixated on the waitingroom's wall ahead of them. Her face looked thoughtful. After ten minutes of silence, she sucked her teeth, standing up. Flag stood up with her, motioning towards the hallway to exit. "I'll bring you right back after you change."

Harley walked ahead, pretending as if she didn't hear him.

By the third afternoon, Floyd still wasn't awake. She tried to take the worry away by forcing herself into a romance novel she brought with her after the mission. _The doctors said he'd be fine, _she reminded herself.

"You need to eat," Flag muttered, leaning against the doorframe of the small hospital room.

Harley rolled her eyes, turning another page in her novel. "I'm not going back to the house, Flag."

"There's a cafe here, on the first floor, get some food in your stomach. I'll stay here and watch him," Flag offered.

Harley was about to argue, but her stomach started growling before she could get a word in.

"Fine," she huffed, standing up and tossing her book on Floyd's side table. "I'll be back in two minutes," she said, patting Flag's shoulder as she walked out of his room.

He groaned a little bit, blinking furiously so his eyes could adjust to the fluorescent lights.

Flag was sitting by his bedside, looking down at his phone.

"Hey," Floyd mumbled, his voice sounded raspy.

Flag's head shot up from his phone, "Welcome back to the land of the living," he murmured with a smirk.

Floyd grunted in acknowledgement. "Where are we?"

"A black site outside of Jersey," Flag murmured, "How are you feeling?"

"Like we got played," Floyd looked around, eyes narrowing at the water cup on the table beside.

Flag followed his gaze, leaning forward and grabbing his water. "Here you go," Flag handed it to him.

Floyd took a sip, taking a deep breath. "Everyone else okay?" he asked, with the silent: _Harley's alright?_

"Squad's all fine, back at the safehouse. She went to get a coffee, should be back any second." Flag answered, giving him a smirk.

As if on cue, Harley walked through the entrance of the hospital room, coffee and sad looking ham sandwich in her hand.

"You're awake," Harley said, biting her lip.

Floyd locked eyes with Harley, breathing a sigh of relief. _She's okay._

Flag looked between the two squad members, understanding the weight of this moment. "I'm gonna grab a doctor to check you out," he mumbled, shuffling out of the room. Harley nodded to Flag as he passed her, a silent thanks for sitting with him while she was gone.

"How are you feeling?" Harley asked, slipping back into the chair at his bedside.

"Like we should trust your instincts more often," he murmured, glancing down at her abandoned sandwich in her lap. "Have you eaten anything today?"

Harley rolled her eyes, "You're the one in a hospital bed, Floyd."

He raised his hands, relenting. "Thank you for saving me, Harley. I didn't know what was gonna happen when I woke up to Lex and his doctors."

Harley nodded slowly. "I'm sorry we agreed to split up at all. If I had known it would have put you at so much risk…" She reached forward, taking his hand in hers. Floyd looked surprised that she initiated touch, but she felt a little shocked with herself too, if she was being honest.

Floyd shook his head, "No, you have nothing to apologize for." He ran his thumb over her hand, like he used to. He looked down at their hands for a moment, "I should be the one apologizing."

Harley looked up at him questioningly, tilting her head.

"I haven't been fair to you," he sighed. "I think I've been in denial, since we all were transferred to the safe house. Things are different now, and I should've been able to respect that long ago. It's not your fault that your memories were taken, and while I've known that all this time, I think part of me took out my anger at J on you. Which is just as bad."

Harley looked down, unsure of what to say. Their last conversation before the mission started still weighed on her. _His mission to bust out of Belle Reve._

As if he sensed the hesitation on her face, he continued. "Our relationship didn't start on equal footing, and I want that to change." He took a deep breath, his expression regretful. "Not that I'm expecting a relationship now, just, that I want you to feel comfortable, so I'm here, or not here, in whatever fashion you want me to be, Harley."

Harley pulled her hand from his, sitting rigid in her chair at his words. She sat like that for a few moments. "I remember loving you, I think," she said softly.

Floyd leaned forward a bit, searching her eyes. "What?"

"I don't remember moments, but the feeling." She took a deep breath, leaning forward a bit. She considered taking his hand again, but she didn't know what he'd feel after this. So she rested her hand palm up on the edge of the hospital bed, silently giving him the option to take her hand again. He did take her hand, his expression softening at her.

She took another deep breath, "Since I got these mods, I haven't been able to feel much. I mean, I feel physical pain, whenever I'm injured on missions, and even more when I start to heal, but everything's felt muted, I guess."

Floyd started rubbing his thumb over the top of her hand again. She wondered if it was something he'd do when they were together to calm her down. It strangely grounded her. "But, when we couldn't find you in Gotham, and I realized what Lex was doing, I felt something."

Her breathing felt shaky, "I couldn't really tell what I was feeling, but I just knew we had to find you, before Lex could do to you what he did to me. I was so afraid that we wouldn't ever see each other again, and that felt familiar, if that makes any sense."

Floyd nodded slowly, taking some time to consider his words. "I'm sorry you had to go through that on a mission, but I'm alright now." He remembered back to times like these when he'd hold her face in his hands, but he didn't want to push her.

Harley nodded, looking down at their interlocked fingers. "I think I want this," she murmured after a moment, making an active effort to keep staring at their hands. "But we don't really know each other now. I guess you know me pretty well, but I'm different now, so things are different..." Her voice drifted off, unsure about continuing to ramble. She felt flustered and dumb for saying this. Words were just flowing from her mouth without much filtration on her part. She hadn't felt this way in a long time, like some highschooler trying to talk to her crush for the first time. Floyd probably thought she sounded insane.

"Harley," Floyd called, his tone lighter. She hadn't realized how long she had been silent, just staring at her lap.

Her head snapped up, unsure of how to read his face. She groaned, pulling her hand back and scrubbing her hands over her face. "I know, this isn't what it used to be, but I want to get to know you, Floyd. I want-" she stopped short, Floyd's light grip on her wrist grounding her. She pulled her hands from her face, realizing just how close Floyd was to her. His breath tickled her nose.

"That's exactly what I want, if you'd like," he said, his lips _so close. _

She felt her breath hitch a bit, realizing that they've probably been this close, and even closer, on multiple occasions, but this was as close as she's felt to anyone since she got her modifications.

She took another chance and lightly pressed her hand against the side of his face. He leaned into her touch, taking a deep breath and smiling at her.

She smiled in return, biting her lip a bit. "I would like that, I think," she murmured, leaning forward a bit. Floyd leaned in as well, but hesitated. He wanted her to feel comfortable, take this at her own, new pace. She smiled at him, tilting her head forward and pressing her lips gently against his. The kiss was short, chaste. Floyd fought the urge to lean in further, wanting to take it at her speed.

Harley leaned back a bit, pressing her forehead against his gently. "I'm glad you're okay, Floyd," she murmured, her breath tickled his beard. He smiled at her, leaning his head back after a brief moment. He reached up, tucking some of her hair behind her ear.

"I'm glad you're okay too," he breathed, his hand lingering on the side of her face. Harley leaned into his touch as well; her smile reaching her eyes for the first time since he could remember.

"Quinzel," Waller's voice pierced through their moment like a bullet. "The deal was that you were allowed to remain here until Lawton was awake. Clearly, he is fine, so you need to be escorted back to the safehouse." She sounded bored. Harley's back was to her, and Floyd couldn't get a good look, but he assumed she looked bored too.

Harley pulled away from Floyd, rolling her eyes at Waller. Floyd leaned back as well, groaning softly as he did so. She sent him a discrete smile as she got up, grabbing her abandoned coffee and sandwich, and followed Waller out without much complaint. Floyd thought that was smart of her, since their glorified dictator loves to find any little weakness to exploit. He wanted this time around with Harley to be different, and a good change in their dynamic would be to keep Waller as isolated from their relationship as possible.

Harley followed Waller out of the room, sparing Floyd one last glance. He met her gaze, winking as she rounded the corner and out of sight. He smiled, leaning back against his pillows, stretching his arms above his head.

**.-.-.**

Harley walked a little bit behind Waller, not excited for the looming time at the safehouse away from Floyd. Not that she'd confide in Waller, or really, anyone that she knows. It was times like these she wished for Pam. She remembered finally getting a good girlfriend group together right before Bats took her to Belle Reve. She, Pam, and Selina had a big fight before she was captured back then.

She'd shown up to Pam's apartment having stitched most of her injuries up. There was a pretty big wound between her shoulder blades that she couldn't quite get to. She couldn't remember if that was from J's knife that did that one, or if it was from his biting.

Of course, Pammy was horrified, and she called Selina for backup. The intervention went about as well as a trainwreck. They wanted her to leave J, but she wasn't ready to hear it. She sometimes thought of them, wondering how they were doing. She sometimes wondered if they missed her at all. Hell, it's been almost a year and a half since then, they probably thought she was dead. Now, she found herself wondering what they would think of Floyd.

"Lagging is unbecoming," Waller's voice broke through Harley's thoughts. "Keep up, Quinzel."

"You keep saying that," Harley deadpanned, taking a few steps forward, matching Waller's pace easily. "I think your little file on me needs to be updated, Wall. I go by Quinn now, have been for some time."

Waller would have rolled her eyes, if she wasn't quite literally made of stone. "Well today, I need Dr. Quinzel, as much as Quin's pension for violence does come in handy."

Harley slung her arm around Waller's shoulders, forcing a laugh. "She makes jokes," Harley noted, displaying a toothy grin. Waller leveled her with an icy glare, her eyes narrowing only slightly but enough to tell Harley to back off.

"Jeez," Harley grumbled, pulling her arm back to her side. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were the one enhanced with a personality-dulling device."

"Lex Luthor is asking for you," Waller spoke, as if Harley hadn't been speaking at all.

"I didn't realize that your prisoners were allowed to make demands. Hell, I would've asked for an espresso machine long before-"

"He's been interrogated since you brought him in, said he'd only speak to you," Waller continued, ignoring her again.

Harley sucked her teeth, "So I don't get to go home, don't I?"

Waller shook her head, "Not until we get some answers from Luthor."

Harley nodded, furrowing her eyebrows for a second as two officers opened the exit doors for them, eyeing her suspiciously as she and Waller passed. "Is there a Starbucks here?"

Waller looked over her shoulder at the reformed-clown at that comment. "You have a coffee in your hand, Quinzel."

"Not for me. Lex'll want a peace-offering," Harley explained.

**.-.-.**

Half an hour later, Harley plops down across from Lex in a folding chair. She dropped her elbows on the metal table between them, sliding a cappuccino across the table to him.

Lex's longer handcuffs rattled a bit when he reached for the coffee. Harley smirked when she realized he was cuffed to the table.

He noticed her smug expression, so he raised an eyebrow. "What? Not used to being in here without this jewelry?" He asked with a laugh, shaking his wrists a bit so the chains would rattle.

A laugh escaped her lips without much artifice. "You could say that," she murmured, taking a sip of her own, now-cold latte. "I got less drink options though, so count your blessings," she commented with a wink.

Lex nodded, sipping his drink in defeat. "I've been in places with shittier service, I'll admit." He took a contemplative pause. "I didn't think they'd let my old buddy interrogate me."

Harley nodded, "These assholes can be full of surprises sometimes. Why'd you ask for me, Lexie? Conjugal visits aren't allowed here," she joked with a wink.

This time it was Lex's turn to cackle. "I always liked you, Quinny. J was all business, but I think you might have a better head for it."

Harley rolled her eyes, "I think you're a little off base here, Lex. I just went along with it for the free drugs," she argued without much bite, sipping her coffee casually.

Lex shook his head, pointing a shaking finger at her. "Try as you might to deny it, gorgeous, but the game changed in Gotham the moment the leggy Dr. Quinzel was handed Mistah J's file. I know it, the whole city knows it, and I feel like you know it too."

Harley made a 'tcch' sound, sucking her teeth at Lex's teasing. "None of that really matters now, huh? I caught a case, Puddin' caught a fall," she grumbled, unwrapping her nearly-forgotten ham sandwich, tearing off a piece and smacking on it obnoxiously. "You want some?" she asked between bites, waving the sad excuse for a meal in his face.

Lex raised his eyebrow at her, a mulish expression taking over his features. After a moment of thought, he snatched half of her sandwich from her. "You're lucky they haven't fed me yet."

"You'll get used to that, Lexie."

He rolled his eyes, chewing obnoxiously at her. "You're not the least bit curious why I let you capture me, Quinny?"

"I mean, the fight wasn't exactly fair. You did give me superpowers," Harley commented dryly, crumbling up the sandwich's plastic wrapping and dropping it on the table between them.

Lex nodded at her, his lips quirking up a bit at her. "I'm glad your sense of humor's coming back, sweetheart. I was afraid that'd be lost forever. J was too."

Harley raised an eyebrow at him, "That's what the chip was for, right?"

He raised his hands up in defense. "It was a special request, and in hindsight, I wouldn't have done it." He clasped his hands together, resting them on the table between them. "You wanna know why I didn't reprogram your new boyfriend?"

Harley twirled some hair between her finger tips. "I don't date coworkers anymore, lucky for you," she winked at him.

He smiled at her, "I do love our banter, but I did call you here for a reason, pretty girl."

"I'm hooked, really. I'm on the edge of my seat here," Harley muttered, nonchalantly.

"My old pal didn't want Deadshot all wired up. I was supposed to kill 'em," Lex droned on, as if Harley hadn't spoken at all.

Harley leaned forward a bit, "You have old pals?" she clucked, choosing to ignore his comment about Floyd. Better to dissuade anyone's assumptions about her and Floyd going forward. "Anyone I know?"

He propped his chin up under his fist, furrowing his brow at her, as if he was really working on something. "I wasn't supposed to say. I wasn't even supposed to get myself captured, but Quinny, you do have a charm that's hard to resist." He squeezed his eyes shut, leaning back quickly and groaning dramatically. "You're just so _cute_ with your bling now, sweetheart. I understand Deadshot's attraction."

Harley leaned even further forward, grabbing the chains holding Lex's close to the table and yanking them forward. He flew forward, crashing head first on the table. "I'm still a psycho, Lexie, bling or no bling." She said, her toothy grin morphing into a snarl. "If you keep playing games with me, I'll get impatient," she leaned forward as well, licking the side of his face as he lifted his head up to look her in the eyes. "I'm not the kind of girl anyone keeps waiting," she said sweetly.

Lex chuckled at her, trying to crane his neck to follow her as she leaned back from him and let go of his chain. He bit his lip, smiling wickedly at her. "Oh Quinn, I get why my friend's _so obsessed_ with you."

Harley stopped her old-clown act then. "Who, Lexie?"

Lex smiled at her, the skin around his eyes crinkling a bit. "You already know, sweetheart." His eyes shot towards the mirrored wall to their right. "Think about it, Quinny. Come back to see me tomorrow." He finally turned towards the mirrored wall, snapping his fingers and jutting his thumb behind him, towards the exit. "I'm bored now, but don't stay away too long. I can't go long without seeing this pretty new face of yours." He smirked, running his fingers along the side of his jawline, where her "rotten" tattoo used to be. "Face tattoos were tacky."

Harley didn't respond, her eyebrows just furrowing at Lex as two guards came in and unlocked him, escorting him out towards a prison cell. She watched him go from her seat, her lips twitching thoughtfully as Lex left the room. Two guards in turn came in from the opposite door for her. "Harley Quinn, we're here to-"

Harley waved them off, standing quickly. "To walk me home, I get it," she muttered, taking a final sip of her coffee and tossing it aside. She stepped towards the guards, offering her hand to them with a toothy grin, "Shall we?"


	12. The Lawrence Twins

"We didn't ever do missions together?"

Floyd spared her a questioning glance from where he was setting up in the window. "Midway was the first. That's how we met," he answered, returning his focus on setting up his rifle.

Harley was across the room. It was a dusty old office suite in what seemed to be a longtime abandoned building. She was looking over the spare documents on the desks, absentmindedly running her fingers along the dust on the back of a chair. "No, I mean as a couple?" She called back, stopping to look at an old photo of a family of three.

"Nah," Floyd muttered back, working to open the window he had chosen for the job. "After we were released, we had about six months of nothing."

"Ah," she nodded absentmindedly, breathing out so hard her lips flapped a bit. Floyd chuckled at the sound.

"You bored yet?" He asked. She didn't have to see his face to know he was smiling.

She rolled her eyes at him, skipping back towards where he had posted up. She smirked as she watched him struggle to open the window. "You aren't allowed to do missions alone now. That's Flag's call," She said, her tone teasing.

Floyd shook his head at her, chuckling a bit. "Yeah, well. It'll be nice to have the company, much to Digger's disappointment."

The fearless Captain Boomerang had thrown a fit when Harley was elected to stay with Floyd during their next mission.

"_Lawton's been out of the hospital for a week, Harkness," Flag argued, crossing his arms over his chest. _

"_Yeah! And that's gonna be me this time! He gets the terminator and I'm stuck with you two," Digger lightly smacked Waylon's arm, crossing his own over his chest. _

"_Don't pout, it's unbecoming on a man your age," Harley quipped, her eyes never leaving the magazine she'd brought to the meeting. _

Their mission was simple. Two agents that had worked for Waller's agency went rogue, stole some secrets, and threatened to expose Task Force X to the public unless Waller paid them some outrageous sum of money. Flag was stingy with the details, no matter how much they'd begged. Harley didn't feel much sympathy for these guys. They obviously were idiots if they thought they'd shake down Waller.

_Mistah J fed people their own fingers, and he'd be hesitant to cross her. _

So Floyd was set up in a building with Harley as backup, in case anyone figured out the plan and tried to stop him. They were waiting on Digger, Waylon, and Flag to lure the agents to the tenth story window of another building half a mile or so away. Flag's apparently supposed to tell them he has their money to get them in position. Then Floyd would make two shots, and they could all go home. Flag said he'd try to give them some extra time off after, especially since Floyd was technically supposed to be taking it easy in his recovery.

Harley stepped forward after a few more minutes of Floyd's feeble attempts to get the window open. She nudged him to move over, jutting her elbow out and cracking the window. Floyd rolled his eyes at her smug expression.

"Yeah, well, I loosened it up for you," He muttered, angling his rifle around the now-broken window.

Harley grinned at him, grabbing an old office chair and shoving it beside Floyd's seat. She plopped down beside him, putting her feet up on the windowsill next to his gun.

"This is almost peaceful," she mused after a few beats of silence, blowing a bubble with her gum.

Floyd nodded, "Yeah, the minutes leading up to the hits usually are, unless the employers didn't wanna cough up the cash."

Harley clucked at him. "You're telling me people haggled for hitman deals?"

"Mhm, more often than you'd think."

"Huh," she looked thoughtful. "You should consider accepting coupons."

Floyd smiled as he gazed through his scope. "I'll keep that in mind, Harls."

Harley watched him shift his position as he looked through the scope, his hands twitching a bit. She tilted her head, the base of her skull feeling tingly.

"_Deadshot! Shoot that woman right now!" Waller shouted, her hands trembling in her rage. _

_Floyd glanced between their handler and Harley as she flew off into the night with Mistah J. "She ain't do shit to me," Floyd raised his eyebrows, bemused at the request. _

"_You're a hitman, right? How about a contract? Kill Harley Quinn, do it for your freedom and your kid," She snarled, her expression steely. _

_Floyd's eyes widened. "Oh, she dead." He stalked over to the building's ledge, positioned his gun and looked through the scope. His hands twitched a little bit as he lined up to take the shot. She was hanging upside down on the rope, her legs working around it as she dangled there, J's copter flying straight away from them. It was an easy shot, even for a beginner. _

_Something unfamiliar flashed across his face, but he seemed to will whatever the thought was away. He fired, still looking through the scope after the shot left his rifle. She fell a bit down the rope, dangling lifelessly from the bottom of the rope. After a few beats, she popped back up, smiling at him as she flew away, waving wildly at him as he watched her from the building's ledge. _

_Floyd walked over to Waller, hunching over a little to meet her eye line. "I missed," he almost gloated, the ghost of a smirk on his lips. _

"Harley?" Floyd was so close to her, his weapon-prep was abandoned completely. He had one hand on the side of her face, his thumb stroking her cheek gently. "What is it?"

She blinked at him, realizing she had zoned out. "Uh, nothing. I…" she looked around, remembering where they were.

"Did you see something?" He asked, his eyebrows furrowing.

She nodded, confused about the _way _she saw it. "I watched Waller ask you to shoot me. Said you'd get back to your kid if you did, but you missed."

Floyd's expression softened. "Ah, yeah. That," he muttered.

She tilted her head, "It didn't feel real, it was like I was watching it, not _living it._"

He nodded, "She showed you footage of that awhile back, I think."

"Oh," she breathed. A contemplative pause. "Why?"

Floyd raised and lowered one shoulder. "I dunno, you never said if she explained that or not."

Harley shook her head, "No, no. Why didn't you shoot me? This was Midway, right?"

"Right."

"Then we didn't know each other _like we do now_, back then."

"That we didn't."

"Then why?"

Floyd looked thoughtful for a moment. "I had a policy as a hitman. I didn't accept jobs to kill women or children." His lip twitched a bit. "I agreed because the prospect of getting back to Zoe seemed so close, but once I lined up the shot I could see your eyes through the scope. I didn't expect to miss, but something told me I should, so I missed."

Harley nodded slowly, taking his hand in hers. "Well, thanks," she breathed.

He closed his hand over her smaller one, "You don't have to thank me for that. I'm glad I missed, Dollface." He winced a bit at himself, remembering she had been hesitant about his nickname for her. "Sorry, I didn't mean-"

Harley shook her head, smiling at him. "No, it's okay. I kind of like it," she wrapped her other hand over his forearm, leaning forwards.

Floyd met her in the middle, kissing her softly. Her tongue ran along the seal of his lips, asking permission to deepen the kiss.

"_Lawton, Quinn. We have a breach in the building. Two heat signatures." Flag's voice in their comlinks broke through. _

Floyd groaned into their kiss, wanting to pound on Flag for interrupting them. Harley tugged on his lower lip between her teeth as she pulled away.

"Oh, you're mean," Floyd griped, refocusing on his scope. Harley kicked back, falling into her desk chair again, spinning on it's wheels as she giggled at him.

Floyd pressed his comms. "The agents are there?"

"_No, yours. Looks like they're on the fifth floor. Came through a window, according to the guys at tech," Flag informed, sounding irritated. _

Harley groaned as she stood, "I'm on it," she grumbled into her comms. She tightened her gun holster and looked around for her bat.

"_Be careful Quinn. Lawton, stay in position, the agents should be to us soon." Flag ordered. _

"How do we know these two aren't the agents we're waiting on?" Floyd also sounded annoyed.

He's probably pissed she's handling whatever it is on her own, Harley figured. So far, he had treated her normally on missions, but she'd be nervous if it was him going off alone too. Not that she's complaining, J would've thrown her through a window by now for taking too long to check out the break in.

"If that's the case, then I'll take care of 'em." Harley grinned at him, slinging her bat over her shoulder. She strutted back towards Floyd, bending down and kissing him quickly on the lips. She stood up and activated her comms again. "I'll be right back," she informed Flag and the rest, heading for the stairwell.

"_Be careful, Harley," _she heard Floyd's voice from the suite she'd just stepped out on and through her comms. Harley smiled at his words, taking the stairs two at time. At least the mods kept her from becoming a panting mess before she had to look all intimidating for whoever these idiots she probably had to kill were.

She zipped up her purple leather jacket all the way as she skidded to a stop at the door to the fifth floor's office suite. The small glass window by the doorknob had been busted up, probably by whoever had broken into the building. Harley leaned her back against the door, closing her eyes and listening for any sign of the intruders near her. She heard two different heartbeats, close enough to definitely be on the fifth floor, but far enough away that they probably hadn't heard her yet. She smirked, _she could get used to this enhanced hearing. _

She stepped aside, cautiously opening the door and stepping inside. She shut the door behind her. Once she was inside, she looked around. The desks in this office space were all cubicles, but whatever had been left behind was picked dry by previous break-ins. Even parts of the walls had been stripped. Harley saw bits of plaster torn from the walls, remnants of pipes sticking out of a few holes in the wall.

The air was thicker in here too, her vision almost hazy. She wondered if whoever had broken in were just a pair of unlucky drug-addicts, looking for a place to smokeout and crash for the night. She sniffed the air, shaking her head at the idea. It didn't smell like anything she'd recognize; almost like a chemical. She wrinkled her nose at the potent scent as she walked on.

Once she checked the cubicles, she headed down a long hallway with separate offices and the break rooms. Those weren't in much better shape. Computers were thrown on the floor, old papers were scattered all around. Some spray paint lined the walls, but it had long dried. So she ruled out vandals.

"Not looking good for my innocent bystander theory," she muttered to herself, peeking her head in another office. A bookcase was flipped over, a leather chair had been sliced up but nothing else to note.

She rounded another corner, more of the wall had been ripped out, some revealed pipes had been ripped out, sticking out into the path of the hallway in different directions. The chemical scent grew as she walked down the hall. She blinked furiously, her eyes almost watering at it.

She stopped in her tracks after another moment. "Wait," she said, her eyes darting towards a bigger room she hadn't checked yet. There was smoke coming from underneath the closed door. She figured it wasn't from a normal fire, the smell was too strong to fit that idea. It almost reminded her of some of the stuff J had scientists working on.

She widened her eyes as she activated her comms, "Guys, this isn't the agents," she said slowly, realization hitting her.

"_Yeah. Our boys just rolled up for their payday," Digger snickered in reply. _

"_What do you mean, Harley?" Floyd's voice cut in. _

The door shot open with a boom. It was ripped clean from it's hinges. More smoke spilled out of the room. Harley had to squint to see for a moment. It smelt too strong to be from a basic fire. It almost reminded her of some of the stuff J had scientists working on.

She wiped the back of her hand against her face, trying to block out some of the smoke. She felt like she should definitely be choking on it, but she figured she had the mods to thank for that. Mistah J had been stingy with the antidote for any of his crazy chemicals.

As the smoke cleared, she heard two different snickers erupt from the doorway. Their voices were sharp, so intense that her ears rang a bit.

"Well, hello, Harley," one voice, a man said.

"It's been awhile!" The other voice quipped, a woman.

Harley narrowed her eyes, unsure of who they were for a moment. Once the smoke cleared a bit more, she saw their signature, matching hot pink hair. It was the Lawrence Twins. Two kids that had joined J's ranks not long after Harley arrived years ago. Sheila and Joey, she thought. They'd both been obsessed with J, Sheila more so for her attraction to the Clown Prince of Crime than Joey's blind fanaticism for J as a "state of mind." They followed him loyally, executing every task he gave them without question, but with a lot of flare.

"Oh, hey." Harley blew another bubble with her gum, unimpressed. "I figured you little twerps would've been out from under Puddin's thumb now." Harley made a face. "Since, he's, ya'know, no longer with us."

Sheila growled at her, waving a hot pink mallet at Harley as she stalked into the hall. "You have no right to call him Puddin, you whore."

"His body might be gone, but his words live on forever," Joey said, his voice full of conviction but not so much anger.

Harley rolled her eyes at the pair "Oh yeah?" She cupped one hand over her ear. "I don't seem to hear him. What's he saying now?"

"You disappointed him. You always disappointed him, _Harleen_," Sheila spat. "That's why you weren't the only one he entrusted with these gifts." She held out her arms, rolling up one of her golden fringe sleeves to show off modifications of her own. They looked fresh, some of the stitching hadn't healed yet.

Joey stepped up beside her as well, showing off his arms as well. He had some scarring along one side of his face, over his cheekbone and jawline. She figured those were also mods, just in the early stages of healing. It had taken hers a few days, if she remembered correctly.

"Oh," Harley said, raising an eyebrow. "When you get those? I didn't see you at the last reluctant heroes meeting."

"Mistah J had a plan for us all, not just you." Joey said, his eyes glossed over with his usual mysticism. He always believed J's bullshit a little too intensely for even Harley's taste.

"So, what's gonna happen now?" She pointed her bat between the two of them. "Are we gonna kill each other or something? That's what you're here for, right?"

Shelia giggled at her. "We're supposed to bring you in alive, actually. But the hunk upstairs if fair game." She batted her eyes at Harley. "I heard he's a father. Mind telling me his little brat's name? I wanna hear him scream it as he dies."

Harley narrowed her eyes at Sheila. "Who wants me alive?"

Joey shook his head, smiling condescendingly at her. "Oh Harley. I always knew you were dumber than you looked."

Shelia grinned, running her nails along her face and dragging at her skin. "Our boss is paying a lot for that pretty face of yours intact."

Harley raised and lowered one shoulder, "Well, at least they're considerate." She paused for a second, debating on how to take them both before anyone could get upstairs to Floyd. "Look, you guys and I might've had our differences in the past, but we don't have to fight now, okay? I can go back to doing my job, you guys can go back to finding another blonde's face to pickle that for your new boss?" She nodded frantically at them, forcing a persuasion grin. "That sounds like fun for everybody, right?"

Joey shook his head at her, pulling out a green machete from a holster behind his back. "I don't think so, Quinn. I don't think that's what Mistah J would want." With that, he ran at her, green and machete in hand, swinging violently at her. She ducked out of his way, using her bat to push herself up and land a kick to his side.

She spun the back in her hand, turning to defend herself from Sheila. She was a few seconds too late, Shelia's fist smashed against the side of her head, the blow was so hard it knocked her hair out of one of her space buns.

She winced, suddenly feeling bad for all the times she'd punched Digger during sparring. "You little brat," she growled at the girl, jamming the tip of her bat into her throat as Sheila ran at her again. Sheila stopped, choking under the pressure on her windpipe. She clawed at Harley violently.

"_Quinn! Status update!" Flag's voice rang in her ear through her commlink as she held off one of the twins. _

Before she could respond, Joey ran up, wrapping his arms around her waist and throwing her to the ground. She landed hard on her stomach. She began to push herself up, but Sheila stalked over, kicking her in the ribs several times. She rolled over onto her side, gripping a knife from a holster on her thigh and gripped Sheila's ankle, stabbing into her calf and thigh until Sheila kicked away.

She fell over, screeching at the pain. Harley pushed herself up, panting as she spat out some blood.

"Flag," she said, barely dodging a strike from Joey as she sidestepped him, checking him with her shoulder into the wall. Harley gripped Joey's throat with both hands, pushing him into the wall so hard she saw pieces of the drywall begin to sink in under the pressure. She removed one hand to press on her comms device. "They're enhanced, trying to get to-"

Joey used both his hands to press into her shoulders, pushing back hard enough to knock her off balance. He swung around, pushing her backwards into the opposite wall. Her back connected with a glass office door. The glass shattered under their weight, sending her down with Joey after her.

She felt a shard of glass pierce her shoulder blade as she hit the ground. Harley screamed out, her cry cut off by Joey's hand on her throat. He was grinning wildly as he tried to push her down further, the glass embedding itself in her back. She used her knee to kick him over her head. She stood up, ripping the largest shard from her back and stalking towards Joey as she tried to stand. She grabbed him by his hair and dragged him over to the desk. She pressed the side of his face into the dusty wood desktop, using one hand to hold him there.

With her other hand, she pressed the shard of glass, stained with her own blood, against his cheek. Joey was struggling against her grip, but not enough to throw her off balance. He may be enhanced, but now _she's pissed. _

She tilted her head as she watched him move against her. He seemed to be tiring himself out, and as he moved, his shirt ran up. She noticed there were no traces of enhancements on his lower back. She narrowed her eyes, scanning the rest of his exposed skin: the back of his neck, his shoulders. There were only enhancements on his arms and one side of his face.

"Huh," Harley wondered aloud. "J cheaped out on the two of you, didn't he?"

"Shut up about him!" Joey hissed at her, gnashing his teeth in hopes to bite her in some way, but it was futile.

"Joey, I just wanna talk," she tried again, not at all concealing her anger. "Why are you trying to kill Floyd?"

He laughed wildly, "Cause that idiot Lex didn't hold up his end of the bargain."

Harley tilted her head, "Lex told Floyd J promised him the rest of the squad in exchange for my modifications."

Joey shook his head, or, tried his best. "Everyone except your sweet little _Deadeye_. Lex promised to get rid of him for Mistah J."

Harley felt confused at his words. But before she could say anything, she heard footsteps behind her, a gun cocking.

"Yeah," Joey said, no longer struggling. "Funny how your new boyfriend survived the fall, but no one thought to consider the possibility-"

Harley jumped back, grabbing Joey and throwing him in front of her as a human shield as shots rang out. She saw Sheila's eyes widened as she realized what had happened. Four shots hit her brother's back. He jerked a little, his lips twitching a little as he sputtered. He laughed a little, blood coming from his mouth and spilling out. His hand wrapped around her arm, squeezing harshly with his other hand drove a shard of glass into her abdomen.

Harley groaned, tossing Joey's body aside and narrowing her eyes at Sheila. "That was stupid," she growled, stalking towards Sheila as she backed up and out the door. She started down the hallway back towards the main floor of the office.

"Joey!" Sheila wailed, dropping her revolver.

Harley ran after her, throwing herself into a cartwheel and landing in front of Sheila.

Sheila stood taller, wrapping gold chains around her knuckles. "Screw the job, _Harleen_. Someone should've killed you ages ago."

Harley quirked an eyebrow at her, glancing at her leg. She was standing on it fine, but she couldn't tell if the cuts had healed. _Arms, right leg: enhanced. _

Sheila punched at Harley, but she grabbed her forearm and pulled her closer. Harley kicked one leg up, using the momentum to flip herself in the arm, crashing down on Sheila.

Harley jumped back up as Sheila rolled over, pushing herself up quickly. She grabbed a shotgun from a holster on her back, cocking it and firing at Harley's face. Harley leaned into a sloppy backbend, watching the pellet explode into blue and pink confetti against a cubicle behind her.

She pushed herself up quickly, glaring at Sheila as she reloaded. "You little bitch! That's mine!" She ran forward, grabbing the barrel of the confetti gun and pulling. Sheila pulled back and the two spun across the office space. They bumped into desks, knocking over computers and breaking down the boarding on cubicle walls as they fought over the gun. Sheila loosened her grip, sending Harley back against a desk. Sheila jumped up on the desk, straddling Harley as she pressed the side of the barrel into Harley's throat.

"I had to sit on the sidelines and watch Mistah J let _you _call him Puddin for all these years, Harleen!" Sheila cackled, spitting on Harley as she struggled beneath her, rasping and choking under the pressure. "You were _always so weak_!" She shouted. "Mistah J shoulda picked me!"

Despite the gravity of the situation, Harley couldn't help but roll her eyes. "So dramatic," she rasped. She darted her watering eyes around for another to find. Some octopus paperweight that had been left behind was a few inches from her hand, it's dumb little face smiling at her as she struggling for air.

Her fingers worked for a few seconds. When she finally wrapped her hand around it, she brought her arm up, bashing Sheila in the side of the head with the paperweight. The hit didn't move her much, but the surprise of it made her loosen her grip on the confetti gun. Harley grabbed it, sitting up and shoving the butt end of the gun into Sheila's forehead, hard.

The crazed woman fell backwards. She was knocked out cold.

Harley looked up into the ceiling, letting out a frustrated scream at nothing in particular. Breathing heavily, she looked down over her body, her wounds were healing. She took a second to just sit there in the dark office space.

As she pushed herself off the desk onto shaky feet, she heard commotion behind her. She whipped around, standing beside Sheila's unconscious body. She reloaded the confetti shotgun and aimed it towards the source of the noise.

Before she could fire, Waylon and Floyd burst through the shut double doors. Waylon's hood was off, his eyes were wild. Floyd's jaw was set, his rifle drawn and pointed ahead of him. When they locked eyes, they both put down their weapons.

"_Oh_," Harley breathed, relieved. "Hey guys."

Floyd's lips quirked up a bit, his eyes softening, "Hi."

Flag and Digger took up the rear, their weapons drawn too. "What the Hell happened, Quinn?"

Flag's eyes shot to the floor beside Harley, his mouth opening to warn her. "Look out!"

Without looking away from Floyd, Harley spun the confetti gun's muzzle at Sheila and fired. A pellet came out, knocking her in the chest and exploding green and purple confetti all over her body.

"Well," Digger said after a moment. "That's the _coolest_ thing I've ever seen."

Harley couldn't help but grin back at the squad. "Thanks! I made it."

**.-.-**

Black SUVs were pulling up all around them by the time the squad made it out of the building. Despite her wounds already healing, Floyd did hover over her. Sometimes, cuts and bruises were visible for a while after they stopped hurting, and he had been especially fixated on the purple coating along her windpipe, as well as the puncture mark on her abdomen and the slice down her shoulder blade.

A few shoulders lugged Sheila's out of the building behind the squad.

"You're sure she's not dead?" Flag asked, glancing between the woman and Harley.

Harley nodded, "The confetti gun wouldn't even kill a normal person. It just hurts like Hell."

He nodded at her, looking conflicted for a moment. "These were your people, and you fought them."

She shook her head, "No. They were J's people."

Flag's face made some weird, unreadable expression she couldn't recall ever seeing, but it disappeared as he grunted in acknowledgment of her words and walked off.

Floyd wrapped an arm around her waist, guiding her towards a helicopter to join the rest of the squad. He said nothing, and she appreciated that he wasn't asking her about what happened. She didn't want to talk about it. She wanted to get the rest of the glass out of her shoulders and take a long shower.

A medic was waiting for Harley on the helicopter, and she removed all the shards with forceps before they took off. Harley sat beside Floyd on the ride home. She rolled her eyes, remembering it was a long way back to the safehouse from this mission. She laid her head on Floyd's shoulder, allowing the exhaustion to overtake her for the rest of the way home.

Floyd rested his chin on top of her head, watching the bruising on her throat gradually fade.

**.-.-.**

By the time the squad made it home, Harley felt dead on her feet. She hadn't been this exhausted since she fought without the enhancements. She was thankful she was able to keep Sheila alive. She wanted the opportunity to question her about how she and Joey had even gotten the modifications.

Floyd seemed to sense how drained she was. He helped her out of the helicopter, but opted to lift her in his arms and just carry her into the safehouse.

"I'll stain your uniform," she argued halfheartedly, her head already lulling against his shoulder.

He smiled at her, shaking his head slowly. "Nothing a good washing won't fix, Dollface."

He carried her into her bathroom, sitting her on the counter by the sink. "You should shower," he said, rubbing her arm softly, trying to keep her awake. He bent down a bit, untying her shoelaces and pulling her boots off. The shiny white heeled booties were stained with dirt, dust and blood. She sighed at the sight of them, making a note to ask Flag for a shopping trip before the next outing.

Harley nodded at him, blinking rapidly, "Right, right."

Floyd removed his gloves, bending over and turning on the water. He leaned his back against the wall next to her shoulder, leaving his hand in the water's path as it heated up. "Can you stand?" He asked, his face riddled with worry.

She scoffed at him, pushing herself down on her feet. "See?" She was standing, but her legs were shakier than she could recall.

Floyd pressed his lips together in a thin line. "I'll turn around so you can get undressed."

She rolled her eyes, but remembered how her body looked now. _Would he still like her with the modifications? _

She nodded quickly, biting her lip. She bent down, peeling her pants from her legs. She undid the zipper on her purple leather jacket, now shredded from the fight. She had a thicker black top on, which seemed to be in good shape. Part of the shoulder on one side had been ripped from the pieces of glass, and there was a hole that was stained with blood from when Joey had stabbed her. She hoped she could wash it out.

Once she was undressed completely, she wobbled into the shower, almost tripping over the side of her tub as she did so. Floyd didn't turn around once, which she was thankful for.

_J would've watched her the entire time, spitting in her face and calling her weak for needing help in the first place. _

She didn't even bother to close the curtain all the way, just allowing the hot water and steam to envelope her. She felt so warm and peaceful. The cuts on her back were still healing, as open wounds sometimes took longer. The gash on her stomach was still a little open and ugly, but she felt the sudden sting of her skin stitching itself back together. She blinked rapidly, her vision becoming spotty.

"Harley! Harley, open your eyes," Floyd's voice roused her. She was leaning against the side of the tub, the water's spray off her now. She blinked rapidly, her vision coming back. She noticed Floyd was fully in the shower now, his suit unzipped on top and laying soaked around his hips. She looked back up at his face. She frowned at him. _He looked so afraid. _

He ran a hand down her cheek gently. "Okay, stay awake for me, baby. Please?"

Harley nodded at him, allowing him to be in charge for a little. He grabbed some soap and a washcloth, cleaning off the blood and dirt from her body. After a few minutes, she realized she was _completely naked _in front of him for the first time - well, not the _first time,_ first time - but the first time she'd remember.

Harley shook her head, pulling away from him. His grip on her wrist was tight, not painful, but not going away either. "It's okay, Harley," he said, his voice firm. Water was all over him, his suit must've been heavy around his hips, his gear was saturated with water. She found his eyes, they were still filled with worry. So she let out a heavy breath, relenting.

"Okay," she said softly, allowing Floyd to switch places with her as he guided her gently under the water's spray.

**.-.-.**

She was a bit more alert and steady after the shower. She was able to dress herself, and she insisted that Floyd go and change out of his gear and shower himself. After a few minutes of arguing, he relented and practically sprinted to his room. She figured he'd be back in five minutes, ten tops.

Part of her was embarrassed, the other part still _so tired. _She didn't even want to consider what Joey had implied during the fight. The idea that those two thought J was still alive…

"Are you feeling better?" Floyd asked, leaning against the bedroom door frame. She had heard his heartbeat as he approached, but she still shivered at his voice.

She wrapped her arms around herself, nodding slowly. "Yeah, I am." She took a second, biting her lip. "Thank you," she breathed.

He nodded at her, looking down. "As long as you're not hurt."

She looked up at him then, taking in his cleaned up form. He was in a Gotham City Rogues t-shirt, stained with pink paint on the button. He had sweats on as well. He looked comfortable, warm. His face still looked afraid.

"I'm sorry," she said, looking at the silver enhancement scar running along her fingers in her hand.

He raised his eyebrows at her. "What for?"

She gestured toward her body, "I know I look different from before," she said. She wondered if her emotions had been as they once were, she'd be crying right now. She felt like she would've been, under _normal _circumstances. She didn't want anyone to see her new body, especially Floyd.

He crossed the room in seconds, kneeling in front of her. His hands ghosted over her knees, but he pulled back to give her space. "Harley, I still think you're the most beautiful, tough, sexy woman I've ever met," he said, chuckling a bit at her. "What you look like now doesn't change that. I'm just sorry it happened before you were ready. I wouldn't have climbed in. I just looked over and you were-" he sputtered, his face scrunching up a bit. "I didn't know if you were going to wake up."

She felt her heart break as she watched him bite his lip. She knew that fear, she had it on their last mission when he was captured. She leaned forward, ushering him up towards her. She scooted back as he climbed into bed with her, wrapping his arms around her frame gently once they were seated. He rested his head in the crook of her neck and he shuddered. She knew that shudder would tell her more about his feelings than his words would.

She nodded, wrapping a hand around the nape of his neck. "It's okay, we're okay," she breathed.

After a while, they pulled away from each other, and Floyd cleared his throat. "I guess I should let you get some sleep."

Harley nodded, looking down for a moment. "Can you stay?" she blurted, catching herself off guard.

Floyd nodded at her, smiling at her. "Yeah, I'd like that."

She wrapped herself around him, from toes to collarbones as they got comfortable in bed. She rested her head on his chest, allowing his heartbeat to lull her to sleep.


	13. The Silent Partner

The next day, Floyd awoke before she did. Surprisingly, he had a very restful sleep. He hadn't anticipated sleeping well at all, after that scare with Harley in her shower. But, he figured actually holding her in his arms again did the trick. Feeling her breath against him, her arms wrapped around his torso as she snuggled into him in her sleep.

She simply rolled over and groaned when he got out of bed. He wrapped her comforter around her and tucked some hair behind her ear before he left her room. He changed his clothes, grabbed a granola bar and headed out of the house.

About a mile from the safe house, Waller had set up a shooting range. It was a lot like the one he had to work with at Belle Reve, so the familiarity felt good at least. He unlocked the shed that Flag had stocked with an arsenal. They weren't his _personal _guns, but he was grateful to get back to his roots a little bit.

Floyd knew that Lex had been requesting visits from Harley, and he knew that she had complied with that request once or twice. She hadn't really talked to him about what Lex was telling her, but she did come to him after he was discharged from the hospital and told him Lex had asked for her. He appreciated her honesty, but frankly, he was starting to feel a little _useless_.

He shot absentmindedly, making his mark without so much as a glance at the targets. It was like clockwork, but it loosened up his muscles. He rolled his shoulders, as he loaded a basic revolver. He fired two shots before Harley's voice startled him.

"You should really use the safety equipment Flag got for you," he jumped at her words.

He put the safety on the gun, dropping it on the table in front of him. He looked over his shoulder at her then. She was dressed for the day, blue jeans and a black jacket. He felt his expression soften at her as he watched her hair blow in the wind around them. It was pretty brisk out, for this early September morning. He forgot how cold it would get in Gotham so early.

"I didn't want to wake you," he said.

She shrugged at him, "I heard you get up."

"You were awake?" He turned around fully, leaning against the table.

"Light sleeper," she tapped her ear. "Enhanced hearing'll do that."

He raised an eyebrow, "Really? You didn't say anything."

"I wanted to sleep a bit more. I figured I'd find you here anyways."

"Well, I _did _leave you a note."

"How'd you think I knew where to find you?" She said, grinning.

He smiled back at her, nodding for her to join him closer. She walked up to him, glancing over the selection of guns he had brought out. He clicked off the safety on his revolver, emptying the remainder of the chamber on the targets, three rounds through the area where the target's heart would've been.

"You doing okay?" Harley asked, her tone teasing.

He was going to answer with a joke, but one look at her face and he realized how concerned she was. He nodded quickly, looking back at the table and loading another gun.

She entertained his coping. She stood there quietly, watching him shoot round after round with a couple different guns. His ability was impressive. She wished she'd remember seeing him in action in Midway. It must've been amazing. She was almost jealous that he could do this with ease, completely unmodified. _Everything impressive about her came from Lex's money and J's bargaining skills, _she thought bitterly.

After a few more minutes, she figured she'd try asking him again. His heart rate was slower, more relaxed, and his shoulders seemed less tense. Maybe this time he wouldn't lie to her.

"You wanna talk about it now?" She asked, her tone inquisitive, but not pressuring.

Floyd pressed his palms against the table as well, cracking his neck on both sides. He breathed sharply through his nose before looking at her. His eyes searched her face, then glanced down at her throat and abdomen. She sighed as well, he was definitely remembering her wounds from last night.

"You know," he started, leaning forward against the table. "When I was strapped down on Lex's operating table, I regretted all the times in my life I wished to be stronger, faster, better."

Harley tilted her head at him but said nothing.

Floyd looked out towards the targets, not really focusing on anything. "When I realized what he was gonna do, I was terrified. He had footage of you too, right before your enhancement surgery."

"What?" She asked, leaning back a little bit.

Floyd nodded, looking at her head on then. "Yeah, he said he was responsible for your modifications, but I didn't believe him. He had this video, and you were so scared of them. Of J."

Harley closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around herself. She didn't really want to unpack all the things she felt about her enhancements. It was a lot to drop on Floyd, especially when he was clearly dealing with something here.

When she opened her eyes, he had gotten closer to her. Not invading her space, but she could smell the gunpowder residue on him. It should've put her off, but the scent was familiar. It grounded her.

"I wasn't able to protect you then. And yesterday, when we got down to help you after the mission, there was a moment where I thought I wouldn't be able to protect you again," he said, the guilt clearly weighing on him. His shoulders were slouched, his face frowning in that way that almost _hurt her to see. _

Her expression softened. She leaned forward and took his face in her hands. "I'm still here, Floyd," she said gently.

He nodded at her, wrapping one hand around her forearm and just holding onto her, as if he was afraid she'd disappear if he didn't. "I know, and I know you can heal but you can't keep getting hurt like that on missions."

Harley wanted to agree, but better her than the rest of them. "I bounce back quickly. I barely feel it once the wound heals," she reassured him. "Usually, it's almost instant relief."

"Why wasn't it yesterday?" He asked, his other hand subconsciously going to her side, where a nasty gash from Joey had lingered a little too long after the mission last night.

She wanted to give him an answer, but she didn't have one. "I dunno. I'm hoping Lex can answer that for me today."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "You're seeing Lex today?"

"I'm gonna ask Flag." She took a contemplative pause. "But if I had to wager a guess, I think it's because they were enhanced too."

"Who were they?" he asked. Since they were out of the harrowing situation that last night brought upon them, he wanted to know more about these random people that just happened to have the same abilities that she did.

"Sheila and Joey Lawrence," she said, rolling her eyes. "Twins that joined J's ranks a little before I met him. Little brats were always looking for a fight when they worked for J, they probably jumped at the chance to go after us," she grumbled bitterly.

Floyd tilted his head at her, "I thought you were the first one he had enhanced."

Harley nodded, "I think I was. Lex said so himself, but the two of 'em still had the scarring. That goes away after about a week, if memory serves."

Floyd blew out a long breath. "So they just got the mods then?"

"I'm guessing. Only parts of them were enhanced though," she ran a hand over her jaw. "Joey's face and arms. Sheila's arm and one leg."

"Think it was done in a hurry?" Floyd asked. "Lex might've found out about our mission from the inside. Since it was such a last minute plan, he could've organized it. He's ordered hits from me from prison before."

Harley shook her head. "Arkham's about as secure as a wet noodle. Waller has him under constant surveillance. And there's no more Griggs-types this time. No chance of anyone getting something into him."

"So you think Lex doesn't know?" Floyd asked, sounding skeptical.

"I think Flag probably filled him in, but I don't think he ordered it," she mused. "Last time I saw him was the day before the mission. He said he wanted to see me again soon, I don't think he would've said that if he thought we wouldn't be making it back."

Floyd nodded at her logic. It made sense, but that begged the question: "So who has Lex's modifications now?"

Harley shrugged, "Whoever they work for, they were supposed to grab me and kill you, that's all I know." She considered telling him about Joey's warning. That J might still be alive, but the static inside her mind that comes with J's influence was finally starting to quiet down. She knew sharing that theory would only do Floyd more harm than good.

Floyd looked unsure as well, running his hands down her arms as he seemed to think over her words. "Lex might have some answers, even if he didn't order the attack. And you left the one girl alive, right?"

She nodded at him, "She might be harder to get info from. She's more obsessed with Mistah J than I ever was." She flipped her hair overdramatically, "She's always been jealous of little 'ole me."

Floyd clucked at her. "Well, Waller'll make her talk. If there's one thing that woman's good at it's getting people to bend to her will."

"Mmh," Harley nodded in agreement. "I guess I can take a crack at Sheila anyways."

"I think it's a good start for sure," Floyd agreed. She smiled at him, grateful for his supportive nature during their planning. "But I'm coming with you," he said matter-of-factly.

Harley opened her mouth to argue but froze when she heard footsteps in the distance.

"What?" Floyd asked, gently grabbing her shoulders. "What is it?"

Harley focused more on the sound. "Digger," she clipped. She turned to face the Aussie as he emerged to the clearing where she and Floyd had been talking. She looked annoyed as he approached them. "Nice to see you," she grinned at him, baring her teeth. "Leave," she said. Her tone was sweet but serious.

Digger put his hands up, smirking at her despite the tension. "Oh come on, Craziness. I just came to fetch the two of ya at Flag's behest."

Floyd rolled his eyes, but started packing up the guns anyway. "You don't even know what behest means."

Digger sucked his teeth at Floyd's remark, but helped him and Harley put the weapons away.

**.-.-.**

Harley followed both the boys back towards the house. Floyd's fingers intertwined with her own on the walk back to the house. She appreciated his constant touch, not that she'd ever admit it in front of Digger.

Digger stepped back once they reached the house, nodding for Floyd and Harley to enter. As she walked past him, Digger caught her elbow in his grip, "I see we're back on good terms now, aren't we?" He flashed a cheeky grin at her as he nodded towards Floyd.

Harley smirked at Digger. She touched the side of his face gently. "Don't worry, Waylon's still available," she teased, lightly slapping his cheek without any force.

Her words startled a laugh out of him as he walked in the opposite direction towards his room.

Flag was at their kitchen island. He was sitting on a barstool, but he looked like he was ready to jump out of his seat at a moment's notice.

"Jeez, you're tense," Harley sighed.

Flag eyes scanned over her. "You look better," he commented, nodding at her.

Harley tilted her head at him. If she didn't know any better, she'd think Flag looked _worried about her_. She settled on a laugh, "You can't get rid of me that easily," she retorted.

Floyd made himself a coffee, passing Harley an espresso as he added sugar to his own cup. "What's going on, Flag?"

"Lex is asking for you," Flag nodded towards Harley. "Waller questioned him last night about the enhanced individuals that infiltrated our mission."

Harley nodded in thanks at Floyd for the coffee. She looked at Flag then, "Waller thinks Lex ordered it?"

"You don't?" Flag asked, bewildered.

She shook her head, "Did he seem surprised?"

Flag looked thoughtful for a moment. "She said he'd tell us everything he knows about it, but only if you visited him again today."

Harley nodded slowly. "I'll be ready to go whenever," she muttered.

"I'm coming with her," Floyd interjected, crossing his arms over his chest.

Harley shot him a look, but Flag spoke first.

"Someone else already asked for you, bud," Flag said.

Harley put her hands on her hips, sucking her teeth at Flag, "Don't tell me it's her."

"The Lawrence girl? Wants to talk to me?" He asked, confused.

"Intel says that Joseph Lawrence was supposed to incapicate you," Flag pointed to Harley. "And Sheila Lawrence was supposed to kill you."

"Does _your intel _know who their boss is?" Harley prodded, clearly annoyed.

Flag ignored her. "Lawton, she is enhanced like Quinn. She will be chained up the entire time, but Waller said it is your decision whether or not you want to speak to her."

Floyd scrubbed his hand over his face. "The Wall's being considerate today, huh? What, another badshit crazy mission tomorrow?"

"He's not going," Harley snapped, looking between the two men as if they were crazy for considering the option at all.

"We need the intel Quinn, and this isn't _your decision _to make," Flag reprimanded her.

Floyd sighed and glanced at Harley, considering if this was going to turn into an argument. He sighed. _Fuck it, _"Yeah." He tried to ignore Harley as she narrowed her eyes at him. "Yeah, I'll meet her."

Flag nodded, pulling out his phone to make the call. "Okay, wheels up in ten you two." He stepped out to make a call.

Before he could even get a word in, Harley was on him. "What were you thinking, Floyd?" She asked. "She almost killed me. Their little interrogation cells aren't gonna be enough to hold her."

Floyd almost winced at her words. She sounded angry, but he figured it was just her concern for him. "You said it yourself. Waller runs a tight ship, it's not like Arkham."

Harley groaned at him, running her hands through her hair. "Arkham is like Arkhman for regular people. And even so, normal, run of the mill murders were able to escape no problem. That bitch is gonna make a break for it as soon as she can. What if this is her way to get out?"

Floyd puffed out his chest, "You don't think I can take her?" He felt dumb for even saying it. _Of course he couldn't stand a chance against an enhanced person. _

She rolled her eyes, throwing her hands up. "Save your little crisis of masculinity for someone like Digger," she clipped. "No, you cannot take her in hand-to-hand. Neither could Flag, Katana or Waylon."

He opened his mouth to speak, but he wasn't sure how to argue. She was right, and she was just trying to look out for him. So, he stepped forward, taking her hands in his. "Look, we're going to the same place, alright? You won't be far if that's what you're worried about."

Harley's lips were in a tight line. "You really want to talk to her, huh?"

He nodded, "You've been carrying all of us lately. Especially me." Her expression softened. "You deserve someone to help share the load with, Harls. That's what this is, a partnership."

She looked up at him as his hands cradled the sides of her face. After a moment, she still looked cross with him, but she relented with a nod.

"I'll take it," he said with a small smile. He kissed her softly and went to grab a jacket.

**.-.-.**

"I thought you were sweet on me, Lexie," Harley sighed as she sunk down in her usual seat across from him. He wasn't cuffed now, from what she saw. She wondered if all their restraints had to go to Sheila down the hall.

Lex raised his hands in defense, "Oh, come on! You think I'd put a hit out on you?" He shook his head, his expression was one of mock offense. "I'm hurt, Harls. Truly, I'm offended." He scrunched up his face, "And the idea that you think I'd use those fuckin' twins of all people to kill you?" He shook his head frantically, as if he was trying to knock the idea out of his skull. He took a sip of the coffee she'd brought him, "You know how I feel about those twerps."

Harley bit back a laugh at his obvious disdain for the Lawrence twins. "I did think it was an odd choice, for you to send Joey and Sheila in to kill me," she raised and lowered one shoulder. "There was a moment where I thought I might go out though. Death by the tacky twins," she shuddered.

Lex smirked at her. "Not my style. I'd send a Deadshot-type. Less messy," he said matter-of-factly.

She nodded at him, "Good to know. What can you tell me about the twins though, Lex?"

"How do you mean? I didn't send 'em after you."

"They were enhanced," Harley said, confused by his confusion.

He leaned forward then, almost dropping his coffee. He stopped for a moment, looking thoughtful. Finally, he made a "tch" sound before looking to the mirrored wall beside them, likely where Waller or Flag were watching. "Oh you didn't tell me that," he said to the wall, his tone light, almost amused.

Harley snapped her fingers in front of his face, "Lex. I'm asking you, who could've enhanced them?"

Lex shrugged, "Your guess is as good as mine, Quinny."

She took a deep breath, reminding herself not to get frustrated. She needed to know who was after her, _after Floyd. _"Their assignment was to take me and kill Deadshot, much like your original plan for the two of us was supposed to be. Weird coincidence, huh?"

Lex rolled his eyes, "I already told you I didn't order any-"

Harley shook her head at him. "I don't think you made the call, Lex. But I do think you know who did."

He pursed his lips, looking down for a second.

"Oh, come on. It's just between us now," she coaxed. "You said you had a new partner, since Mistah J's no longer an option. Who are they?"

Lex shook his head. He almost looked _pissed. _"I've not met him," he admitted after a beat.

Harley sat up straighter, shocked. "You've never seen your business partner? You _gave _them your enhancement research."

Lex shook his head again, "Nope. That I have not shared with anyone since…"

"Since J?" Harley finished for him. She asked, but she didn't need an answer.

Lex looked confused, "Yes, but he didn't keep track of the files on enhancements. He left it to his second in command." Lex searched for his name, "Jack or something."

"_Johnny_," Harley breathed.

Lex nodded, "Yeah, Johnny Frost. He kept all the files, but after you and your little group took care of the both of them, my guys searched high and low for that information. It was like that research never existed."

"You think your new partner got it somehow?" Harley asked.

"Must have. Unless someone else was doing research at the same time as I was on body modifications." Lex shrugged one shoulder, "Which, to have them ready at such a rapid pace after yours? Unlikely. We just assumed he destroyed the records after he saw what happened to you. End result was beautiful but the process was ugly."

"You don't have to tell me," Harley quipped dryly.

Lex smirked at her, "No, I do not. I just figured J's old friend didn't have the stomach for it and got rid of it all. Those idiot twins must've been good for something after it, if they found those records."

"How do you figure it was them?"

"Really?" Lex tilted his head towards her, looking annoyed. "You have all the money and resources to enhance anyone you want, and your first pic is Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Nutcase? If my silent partner found the information, then he must've given his worker bees an incentive to find it."

Harley nodded, looking thoughtful. "Find the information, get the enhancements."

"Bingo," Lex took another sip of his coffee. "You think you know where Frost kept that stuff?"

Harley stood up slowly, "I got a pretty good idea, yeah."

**.-.-.**

Floyd sat across from her. Her wrists were cuffed to the table; so were her ankles. She looked immobile, but her gaze had this eerie feeling to it. The room was so quiet when he was allowed entrance. It was unsettling.

"You must be Floyd," she greeted after several minutes of silence. It's as if she just noticed he was in there with her.

He shook his head, leaning back in his chair a little bit. "Only my friends call me Floyd."

She tilted her head so far to the right that he was afraid she'd accidentally snap her own neck. "_Oh? _Are we not friends?" her tone was breathy.

Floyd raised and lowered one shoulder, "Word on the street is you were gonna kill me. That's no way to treat a friend."

She slowly blinked at him. "If I'd known you looked like this, I might've reconsidered." She paused for a second. "It almost makes me wanna tell Harleen that we're even," she said simply.

Floyd feigned a thoughtful look, "I don't think _Harley _likes that name either."

Sheila banged her fists on the metal tabletop. "I don't give a damn what that traitor thinks!" She screeched.

Floyd inwardly thanked himself for not visibly wincing at her movements. Guards were in the room in seconds though, their stun guns at the ready. _Not that it would do anything_.

He glanced behind him where they stood, shaking his head. "It's all good, boys. Just a friendly conversation." He looked back at Sheila, "Right, Sweetheart?"

She giggled at his hand, dropping her head close to the tabletop to attempt to flip her hair. "Sure thing."

Her hair was frizzed out. The pink had hints of red in it towards her scalp. More than likely blood. _They hadn't let her shower yet_, he realized. He tried not to let himself wonder if that was her own blood or Harley's.

"You look pretty roughed up, huh?" Floyd asked, feigning concern.

She nodded, forcing her lips into a pout.

Floyd nodded back at her, "They treated me bad when I first got in this joint too, hunny."

"Oh, yeah?" She asked, batting her eyelashes at him.

Floyd smirked, "I can help you. If you talk to me, I can convince 'em to let you have a shower, get you set up good in a spot." He knew there was no way in Hell Waller would give her any accommodations in her cell, since she isn't a member of the squad, but if she bought what he was selling, he could get some answers for Harley.

She grinned at him, a scabbed over cut on her lip reopened. She lapped at the blood that before it could drop from her lips. "You're such a sweetie pie!" She giggled, drumming her fingers on the tabletop. "I get what the bitch sees in you now. You probably showed her a real good time," she sneered at him.

Floyd tilted his head, "We're not talking about that now. Help me help you, alright?" He raised his eyebrows at her encouragingly.

Her giggles turned into full on wailing. She just rocked back and forth in her seat, laughing so hard tears started to run down her cheeks.

Floyd tried to will himself out of being alarmed by her erratic behavior. She was definitely still under J's influence. He almost felt bad for her, but attempting to murder both him and Harley kind of killed any sympathy.

"He said you were like this. Always looking out for the _helpless little woman_!" she threw her head back, as if she were in peril. "Look where it got you, Deadeye," she spat.

Floyd didn't respond. _Don't take the bait. _

His flat expression only seemed to encourage her. "I was there when Mistah J got his Harley back," she rolled her eyes at the memory. "My brother and I heard all about your little stunt, giving her an out from the Joker down in that prison. It was all very Princess Bride." She clucked, "Mistah J also said you were protective of Harley during your little suicide mission against the witch lady. How _adorable _of you." Her sweet smile turned cold in an instance. "How did it feel to realize you'll never be able to save her?"

Floyd sat straighter, "Look, girl, whatever you think you know isn't right. I'm trying to help you here. If you talk, they'll give you privileges."

She laughed at him again, continuing as if he hadn't interrupted her. "She called out to you the first night. Wanna know what Mistah J did to her before she got those pretty little modifications?"

Before Floyd could tell her to shut up, she kept going.

"He strung her up in a nursery. She apparently thought he'd want to have her moron babies awhile back, so Mistah J made the room to teach her a lesson. She hung by her wrists and Mistah J let us take turns with her, we could do _whatever we wanted _to your helpless little Harley. And she cried for Floyd! Floyd! Floyd!" she screeched his name, as if she were the one being tortured, "the entire time."

Floyd balled up his fists, his hands shaking. He fought the urge to smack her. He'd never wanted to hurt someone more. "Once she got her pretty little jewelry, Mistah J had to make sure it worked. So he handed her a knife and told her to stab herself in the leg while he was out an errand. Joey and I got to watch her do it. For three hours, she just sat there, driving a knife into her leg, because her Puddin' told her." Sheila grinned at the memory, her eyes dazed over. "I'll tell ya, it was the only time I liked her, when J was smart enough to give her that helpful chip-"

Harley kicked the door open, Flag at her heels looking pissed.

"Quinn! Don't you dare," He chastised as she bounded in the room, ignoring Flag completely.

Floyd's gaze snapped in her direction. She didn't even seem to notice him, her focus was zeroed in on Sheila. She looked scarily calm.

"Harleen! Nice of you to join us!" Sheila cheered, slapping the table with her open palms. "I was just telling Floydy here about your slumber party with all of us before you got your bling. It was so funny the way we got-" Harley ripped the woman by her collar, the chains restraints snapping as if they were measly plastic under her strength. Harley shoved her into the wall.

"Quinn! Drop her," Flag barked, standing at the edge of the room, four guards behind him, ready with stun guns.

"Flag," Harley responded, sounding annoyed. "It's not that easy this time. _Someone's _been sleeping in my bed," Harley said, narrowing her eyes at Sheila.

Sheila giggled at Harley "You have the worst taste in bedsheets," she sneered. "Or were those Jonah's?" she taunted. She reached her arm out, the cuffs dangling off her wrist like a cheap bracelet, and wrapped her hand around Harley's throat.

Floyd took a step forward, prepared to pry this woman off Harley and kill her himself. But he stopped when he watched Harley gripped her wirst and squeeze so hard that Sheila whimpered, pulling her arm back and out of Harley's grasp.

Harley sighed, "You and Joey did good work, finding our spot to get the info. It's smarter than your usual work, I'll give you that. Anyone else get to the house before you?"

Sheila smirked at her, "No one alive! You think we'd let anyone have the opportunity to make _you _suffer? Fat chance, Quinny. I'm gonna be the one that brings you to the boss, and he'll reward me with the rest of the bling! I'll be the only special one in the world," she sneered, spitting on Harley's cheek.

Harley nodded, "That's a beautiful fantasy, Sheila." She looked at Flag, raising an eyebrow, "See my point now?"

Flag's eyes were still narrowed at her, but before he could do or say anything, Harley snapped Sheila's neck.

"Jesus Quin!" Flag barked, "I didn't give you permission to-"

Harley threw Sheila's body to the side, looking bored. "I wasn't asking." She looked between Floyd and Flag, "She had to die."

"There could've been another way," Flag argued, but he shook his head at the guards, dismissing them instead of sending them to cuff Harley.

Harley shook her head at Flag, "She knew where we lived. So, she likely knew about us too. _Our families_, for those of us still in contact with them."

Floyd's eyes widened in realization, and Flag seemed to understand too. He breathed hard through his nose, pinching the bridge of it before he spoke. "Fine, I'll clean this up. Let me just get you guys back before someone _else _gets killed."

"Wait," Floyd barked at Flag. "Zoe? You guys got eyes on Zoe, right?"

Flag nodded quickly. "Relax, Lawton. Your kid's accounted for. You're still set to visit this weekend."

Floyd nodded, the tension in his body deflating a bid at the news.

**.-.-.**

Harley fell in step next to Floyd as they walked down the hallway towards the helicopter to take them home. "Get anything good out of her before I got there?" She asked, her eyes glazing over his face.

He thought back on the crazed woman's words.

_How did it feel to realize you'll never be able to save her? _Only, it was J's voice teasing that question in his brain.

Subtly, Harley wrapped her pinky finger around his as they walked on. "You alright?" she asked, qurking an eyebrow at him.

He forced a smile, wrapping his other hand around the back of her head and leaning forward, planting a kiss on her forehead. "I am now," he breathed, reminding himself that she's okay. They're okay.


End file.
